


every little thing he does (is magic)

by forpony



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Magical Shenanigans, everyone's a bit of a dick here (stiles included), feelgood/silly fic, my attempt at humor, pack!fic, stiles uses his magic for petty revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-05 16:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forpony/pseuds/forpony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles spends August in Poland, visiting the grandmother he hardly remembers and he learns a few tricks. A few <i>magic</i> tricks. And as payback for many things he’s kept bottled in, he uses his newly learned skills for sweet, sweet revenge. Things don't exactly go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> so this was supposed to be smt a lot different (and also a lot shorter, wow). hope you still like tho. :'))
> 
> at first this was rated M, with a tag 'rating may go up'. but i'm pretty sure that T is the proper rating now. if you think it should still be M tho, feel free to let me know. ^^

At the end of July, Stiles got a surprise invitation to Poland. His dad didn’t really explain as to why the grandmother he hardly recalls suddenly wants to see him, he just said, “The last time she saw you, you were four years old. She says she would like a visit now that you’re eighteen; basically guilt-tripped me into letting you stay there for a month.”    
  
His grandmother is much more awesome than his dad let on. He wishes he had known this important fact before; he would have visited her a lot sooner. Because _this_ , the reason she called him here? Is _freaking amazing_.  
  
“Now, relax, breathe and say it with conviction,” she instructs, her English colored with a heavy accent.  
  
Stiles does as he’s told; he relaxes his shoulders, breathes deeply in and out before saying, “Burn.” And under his intense stare, the candle is lit. With magic.  
  
“Oh my _god_ , this is fucking awesome!” He laughs, overjoyed. Because after years of being the sidekick, he finally has a superpower, he’s no longer the lonely member of Team Human who has _no helpful skills_ whatsoever. He’s not just a spark anymore, either. He’s more like a _blaze_.  
  
His celebration is interrupted by a slap against the back of his head.  
  
“Language, young man! That’s it for today. Now come help me in the kitchen - if you don’t help with the process, you don’t get to eat the results.” His 76-year-old grandmother wobbles a little as she stands up from the armchair and Stiles rushes to help her. And gets swatted at in return.  
  
“When I want help, you’ll know.”  
  
He smiles at her back as she waddles away, totally in awe at how adorable she is. And how violent, for her age.  
  
“So, when are you gonna teach me more stuff? Like, can I read minds? Or, throw fireballs? Can I fly? Don’t tell me I need a broom for that. Are adamantium claws totally off the table or perhaps I could use an illusion to make other people _think_ I have adamantium claws? Or, can I order people around like I did to that candle?” Suddenly a wooden spoon is inches from his nose.  
  
“You don’t use magic on people like that, not unless you’re in danger and there’s no other choice. Got it?”  
  
He nods in a rapid motion, sucking in his lips nervously. The spoon is lowered.  
  
“You can do what your magic allows you to do, no more, no less. Now start dicing those carrots.”  
  
“Yes, mam,” he salutes and receives a snort in reply. As he helps her around the kitchen though, he tries one more time, “You _are_ going to teach me more stuff, right?”  
  
“We’ll see. Now that you’re eighteen, you’ve received your full powers. But that could mean anything from swatting a fly to moving buildings. I don’t know how strong your magic is yet, but we have time to experiment.” She then holds up the spoon again, this time containing a bit of sauce, “Taste that.”  
  
“Mm, yummy.”  
  
He can’t wait to get back home and show Scott what he’s capable of.  
  
-  
  
 _A month later._  
 _Saturday_  
  
“What the _hell_ is that on your face?” Scott asks, mouth hanging open and the one half of the sign he’s holding drooping a little, as his arms sag. Allison slowly lowers her half of the sign that says ‘ _WELCOME BACK, STILES!_ ’ (Stiles is unimpressed with the hearts and balloons decorating it), face pretty much mirroring Scott’s expression. Boyd looks like he’s frowning at him in his usual ‘ _you’re acting like a total idiot_ ’ way and the corners of Erica’s mouth are slowly rising into a wicked smile ( _no, but really, when is erica’s mouth_ not _forming a wicked smile, when?_ ).  
  
Stiles stops in front of them, shouldering his bag higher and grins, gesturing at his face excitedly, “Do you like it?”  
  
“You look like a wannabe pornstar from the 70s,” Boyd remarks coolly before rolling his eyes and turning away from them and this conversation, apparently.  
  
“Oh, c’mon,” Stiles says, head jerking back and forth, “I look like a man,” he accompanies this statement with a puffed up chest and his best serious eyebrows. He deflates almost immediately, pointing at the place where Boyd was just standing, “Wait. How does he know what pornstars looked like in the 70s?”  
  
Erica snickers, coming closer to rest her chin on his shoulders as she peers at the thick moustache, “You are so ridiculous, how did you manage this? And your hair,” Her eyes go up and her hand reaches out. Stiles’ eyes close and he hums as she basically pets him, dragging her fingers through his hair. “How did it grow so fast?”  
  
“And dude, you’ve always had trouble growing out _anything_. How did you-” And now Scott has dropped the sign and is sliding his hand through Stiles’ hair as well.  
  
“Okay guys, this is kind of weird, now.”  
  
Allison is rolling up the sign like she’s in a mad rush and then suddenly she’s there as well, hand in Stiles’ hair and he’s seriously nonplussed right now.  
  
“Guys.” Erica’s hand gets a little too rough, causing his head to loll suddenly to his right and he snaps, stepping back and waving his hand in front of him in his best imitation of martial arts. “ _Stay back, you heathens_! This is not a petting zoo!”  
  
Scott laughs and he relaxes his defensive position.  
  
“But seriously, man. How did you do it?”  
  
Stiles pouts, “Does it really look that bad? The moustache?”  
  
Erica just laughs in his face while Scott and Allison do the ‘ _sorry-bro_ ’ shrug. Yes, Allison has caught that from Scott now that they all hang out so much together. It always looks freaky cause they do it in _unison_.  
  
He sighs, pulling his lips back over his teeth in dismay before reaching up and concentrating. He feels a slight thrill run through him, a sign of his magic working and then pulls the moustache off.  
  
He laughs, waving it in front of their faces, “See? As if I could grow a moustache like that in a month, c’mon, you guys. You’re so gullible.”  
  
Scott practically squeals with laughter as he takes the moustache and wiggles it and then he looks up at Stiles, at Stiles’ _hair_ and goes, “Oh, I get it.”  
  
And before he can protest, Scott’s hand is in his hair again and he’s tugging. He’s tugging _hard_.  
  
“Ohmyfuckinggod, Scott! What the hell are you doing!?” He shouts as Scott steps back, shocked.  
  
“I thought it was a wig, man!”  
  
“Well, it’s _not_!”  
  
“I get that now!”  
  
“Jesus, that hurt!”  
  
“I’m sorry?”  
  
“Boys.” Allison calmly steps in between to mediate. “Stiles, Scott is sorry and he had really good reason to believe that your hair is a wig.”  
  
He makes a face, “A good reason?”  
  
Erica shoves him gently, “Hair doesn’t usually grow that fast, right? I mean you went away with a _freshly shaved_ buzzcut. And you come back with a full-head of thick pretty hair? What’s up with that?”  
  
Stiles slides up to her and throws an arm around her shoulders smoothly, “You think my hair is pretty?” He flutters his eyelashes because he happens to know that she loves his eyes. She once accidentally told him this when they were all playing ‘I Have Never’ with a stolen stash of special wolfsbane meant to help werewolves get drunk. Oh, what a night. Lydia made out with Allison and then forced Jackson to make out with Scott and Stiles will never ever forget the look on the guy’s face; unlike Scott, Jackson totally _enjoyed_ it. He only wishes Derek had joined them, then maybe Stiles could have sneaked in a kiss or a grope or two and gotten away with it. Because nobody speaks about that night. Ever.  
  
His reminiscing is interrupted by Erica stepping aside just as smoothly and causing him to flap his arms for balance.  
  
“You’re pretty but not that pretty,” and she snarls, eyes flashing.  
  
Stiles holds up his hands in a silent apology and she walks away, a smug look on her face.  
  
Allison and Scott now both take him by each hand and drag him out of the airport.  
  
“But really, how _did_ it grow so fast?” Allison asks and this is the moment where Stiles should start gushing about magic and all the wonderful and devious things he can do with it. But he won’t.  
  
Because during his plane ride, he started to think. He has let people get away with a lot of shit in his life, _especially_ his friends. Shit they haven’t but really should apologize for.  
  
So he’s not going to tell them how awesome he is just yet. He’s gonna play with them for a little bit. And already he has an idea of what to do to each individual.  
  
-  
  
 _Monday - Scott_  
  
On Saturday Stiles did the preparation by enchanting a very expensive brand of aftershave to have a _special_ effect on werewolves. Scott, if everything goes according to the plan, won’t be able to tell there’s anything wrong or suspicious about it.  
  
On Sunday he presented it to his best friend with a flourish, smiling gleefully when the other took a sniff and exclaimed that it was great, _I’m gonna wear it tomorrow to see what Allison thinks!_  
  
Oh, this is going to be priceless. Stiles wishes he could suddenly whip out a camera and film the whole thing but sadly that would reveal him to be the mastermind behind this prank.  
  
He just hopes he’ll be able to keep his laughter in check.  
  
-  
  
Stiles has to bite down on his lower lip to stop himself from grinning when before first period, Isaac walks into the classroom and sways, as if colliding with an invisible force. His face goes slightly slack with awe and his mouth falls open, eyes drooping as he walks up to where Scott’s sitting and basically sticks his whole face into the spot where Scott’s neck and shoulder meet. Scott shouts in surprise and shoots up from his seat, laughing awkwardly.  
  
The rest of their classmates stop their chattering and turn to stare at the two. Just to make it even more awkward. Stiles fists his hands, forces a surprised expression and shares a bewildered glance with his best friend.  
  
“Hey, Isaac, what’s going on?” Scott asks nervously as Isaac’s staring at him, shuffling his feet, trying to get closer. When he bumps into the table between them he blinks and looks down. And then takes in his surroundings. His face hardens and he backs away, hand coming up to block his nose.  
  
“Uh, I don’t know. I smelled something odd. I’ll just-” And he hurries to his own seat, a few desks before Scott.  
  
Stiles feels a little bad at how Isaac’s probably confused as hell right now.  
  
But then he remembers how many times Scott ditched him during the summer to hang out with the werewolves, with _Isaac_ specifically and goes _Naw, he deserves it_.  
  
They all do.  
  
As Stiles sits in the last row, neither of the werewolves can see the smile on his face. Which is just as well; it looks almost diabolical.  
  
-  
  
Lunch break is the first time they see Erica and Boyd that day. Stiles is a little bit miffed that Jackson and Lydia apparently decided to spend a week in Spain and that their flight got delayed. While the rest of them are at school, already dreading their senior year, the two love-birds are at home, jet-lagged and exhausted. But no worries, he’ll get them tomorrow. For now, Scott is the main act.  
  
And Erica exceeds Stiles’ expectations.  
  
He and Scott have barely sat down when suddenly Scott’s head snaps up and before he can react to whatever he just heard, his face is smashed against the table, a whole lot of female werewolf clinging onto his back. Erica is rubbing her cheeks against every inch of bare skin she can find, long legs wrapping themselves around Scott’s waist and this is starting to look very _sexual_. When Stiles sees Allison heading their way, a pinched look on her face as she takes in the scene, Stiles quickly does some damage-control.  
  
“Hey, Erica, _what the hell are you doing_?” He asks in a nice sing-song tone, at the same time tugging on the sleeve of her leather jacket. She seems to come to her senses a little, struggling to remove herself from Scott’s personal bubble.  
  
“I- _Woah_ -” She gasps as she has to grab Scott’s shoulders and hold herself away. Scott’s sitting back up now and is looking around, a panicky expression on his face.  
  
“ _Stiles_ ,” Scott whines when Erica suddenly has _claws_ and those claws are digging into Scott’s _flesh_. Stiles really hadn’t thought _this_ would happen. He springs up and takes Erica by the waist, easing her away from the bench and turning them only to come face-to-face with Boyd.  
  
“I smell raspberries,” Boyd says, eyes flashing golden.  
  
 _Really, Boyd? Raspberries? That’s the most enticing smell in the world to you? What even..._ Stiles doesn’t say any of this out loud, though. He gets an idea and basically dumps the slack-jawed Erica into Boyd’s arms and pushes them both towards the exit.  
  
“How about you find out where Isaac’s hiding, take him with you and go to Derek’s? Me and Scott will follow and we’ll figure this out.”  
  
Erica’s nodding slowly, eyes still stuck on Scott before she takes a deep breath and walks away. Boyd looks between her and the werewolf smelling of _raspberries, jesus, he will never get over that_ , conflicted. Stiles shoves him a little and his eyes flash back to normal. He nods to Stiles and follows Erica out of the cafeteria.  
  
Stiles turns around to deal with his best friend’s panic and to reveal him his plan.  
  
In reality, he just wants to see Derek reacting to Scott like the puppy that he really is down inside  and maybe dig up what smell the Alpha finds irresistible. Yes, that would be some excellent trivia that Stiles would make a note of and possibly try to use in his favor.  
  
-  
  
“What do you think this is about?” Allison asks, hand on Scott’s shoulder for comfort as Stiles steers them through the forest. They usually meet up at Derek’s new loft, but the Alpha had called Scott after getting Boyd’s message, saying it would be better to get to their training area aka the old Hale property.  Stiles agrees with that notion for one reason - less chance of breaking something when they all have their puppy pile.  
  
Derek had made a noise of disgust when Stiles had first asked about the activities a pack takes part of, if piling on top of each other for physical comfort was a thing. Apparently, “ _We’re still humans, Stiles_ ,” Derek took offense. Now, Stiles can’t wait to see them all out of their comfort zones. _That’s what you get for stealing my best friend away from me; during the summer, of all seasons._  
  
He’s vindictive. He’s not even trying to hide it.  
  
Stiles starts humming _I’m So Excited_ and receives Scott’s stink-eye.  
  
“Dude, what the hell is there to be excited about!?”  
  
“I’m not excited about _this_ , I just have the song stuck in my head! You know how my brain works,” He glances away from the road to return the stink-eye. “And Allison, I don’t _know_ , like I’ve said five times now. Just because I research and because I’m apparently the one Deaton thrusts his never-ending and yet so often _unhelpful_ knowledge on, doesn’t mean I’m always the one with the answers!”  
  
He’s doing a pretty good job at lying here; Stiles gives himself a mental pat on the back.  
  
“Sorry, Stiles. It’s just, you usually _do_ have the answers.”  
  
He tilts his head in agreement, “Not gonna argue with that, just. There’s always gonna be exceptions to the rule, right?” He shoots her an easy grin, using the rear-view mirror. Allison laughs at him and Scott seems a little more at ease now, as well.  
  
“Look, whatever it is, it’s obviously not life-threatening, right? And we’ll figure it out and fix it, so stop getting so worked up about it.”  
  
Scott shrugs his shoulders and relaxes further, “Yeah, I know. It just... weirded me out, okay? Not to mention, Erica looked like she wanted to eat me, and I’m so glad Boyd managed to hold himself back, because imagine that much body mass landing on me, I could have broken something!”  
  
“And you would have healed in like seconds, now shut up, we’re here.”  
  
They get out of the car and Scott comes around the front to join him at the driver’s side. Before he gets there, he’s tackled and two very heavy werewolves fly against the side of Stiles’ car before rolling onto the ground.  
  
His first reaction is, “ _My Jeep_ , are you fucking kidding me!? How many times do we have to go over this, nobody fucking dents my Jeep!”  And then he takes in _Jackson_ covering Scott’s body with his, trying to nuzzle down at him while Scott’s hands are tightly wrapped around the other’s arms, doing his best to hold the guy back.  
  
Allison’s just as surprised, “What’s Jackson doing here?”  
  
“I called him here because Boyd said it was an emergency,” Derek says, jumping down from the front porch. “I wasn’t told the details, but I can guess now.”  
  
Stiles’ eyes quickly take in the thighs, abs, chest, arms, biceps, collarbones, neck- just, _everything_ because a certain Alpha is still allergic to shirts. His eyes zero in on Derek’s tense face. He looks strained, brow furrowed, eyes gleaming red and mouth pinched. So, _obviously_ , the enchanted aftershave is working on him, except he’s managing to keep himself from joining Jackson to nuzzle at Scott.  
  
Great, he’s disappointed now. But then he looks back at Jackson, who’s _rubbing_ himself against Scott. His friend’s voice has gone many octaves higher (“ _Guys, guys, please, someone, I can’t, Derek, dude_ ,”). Derek looks like he wants to help, but as he takes a step closer, his entire body _clenches_. Stiles sees those muscles move and feels his mouth fill with drool. He swallows audibly and looks away just as he sees Derek’s head move to look at him. He decides to help a brother out.  
  
“Okay, Jackson, you’ve had your fun now,” He puts a friendly hand on Jackson’s shoulder, fingers grabbing at the jacket, ready to help Scott shove this guy off when a clawed hand comes out and hits him in the chest. Hits him hard enough to cause him to fly back and fall on his ass.  
  
“Motherfucker,” He gasps out, winded.  
  
Suddenly, Derek’s _there_ , grabbing Jackson by his collar and throwing him towards the house, “Go run with the others!” When Jackson gets up and makes a move as if to return to Scott, Derek roars and Jackson slips a few times as he starts running as fast as he can.  
  
Stiles may or may not whimper pathetically, because that shit should not be as hot as it is. It maybe would have been less hot if Derek hadn’t been half-naked. Because Stiles keeps seeing the other’s muscles flex and seriously, every time he sees something of _Derek’s_ twitch, his _dick_ does the same.  
  
Considering how his eyes are _glued_ to Derek, it’s weird how he’s surprised by the sudden proximity. A hand is reached out to him and he gratefully takes it, groaning as he gets up and moves his back tenderly.  
  
“ _Aw, man_. That’s gonna bruise.”  
  
“You okay?”  
  
He glares at Derek, “Did I not just say that it’s gonna bruise?”  
  
Derek glares in return, letting go of his hand with a harsh motion, “I’m sorry I asked.” He turns away, going to Scott, his neck occasionally twitching, jerking his head around in a familiar way, which Stiles recognises as Derek trying to keep himself from wolfing out.  
  
“The others are running to clear their heads. You’re gonna go for a swim in the creek.”  
  
“What?” Scott gapes, leaning back on his hands and glancing at Allison in a ‘ _help me_ ’ way. “The water’s kinda cold there, dude.”  
  
“I don’t care, whatever it is that makes you smell like that? It’s on your skin. You need to wash it off. And you need to do it here, so we can test if it’s still working afterwards. Now, _go_.”  
  
“... _Stiles_!?”  
  
He shrugs, realising his fun is over, “He’s right, man.”  
  
“ _Ugh_ ,” Scott groans. Allison holds out her hands to him and gets a bright grin in return.  
  
“Come on, I’ll swim with you.”  
  
“ _Yeah_ , skinny-dipping!” Stiles fist bumps into thin air and tries to follow the couple but Derek grabs him by the arms and leads him back to his Jeep. Scott and Allison don’t even look back, the traitors. “Hey, dude, _what_ -”  
  
“Go home, Stiles.”  
  
“ _What_!? No. Not okay.” He squirms and wiggles until he finds himself between a car and a hard chest, kind of awkward in a _very sexy way_ , except for the glare in Derek’s eyes. He knows that glare, that ain’t the ‘I’m annoyed but still secretly amused’ glare or the ‘You’re unbelievable, but I secretly like it’ glare. No, that is the ‘Will you just go home, I don’t want you here anymore’ glare. Stiles knows because he’s been getting that a lot this summer. He almost forgot while he hung out with his grandma, how much it _hurts_ to see that look on Derek’s face.  
  
So he lashes out. He literally punches the _werewolf’s_ chest. And then grimaces while Derek just grunts softly.  
  
“You’re such an ass, _Jesus_. Like, I got the memo, okay? It’s kind of clear, the way you guys ignored me this summer, or how you always _sent me away_ , after I conveniently helped you with research and how you never even come around my house anymore, which... sounds weird to complain about but it’s just one more hint at the bigger picture - for whatever reason, I’m not pack anymore,” Derek’s face goes slack and he opens his mouth but Stiles holds up a hand angrily, “I _get it_ , I don’t wanna be in your stupid pack, anyway. I just want to hang out with my best bud without you getting all territorial about it, got it!?”  
  
Derek closes his eyes and breathes out deeply, a low growl rumbling from his chest and Stiles ‘ _eep_ ’s.  
  
“We’ll talk about this later. I need to go run with the others right now and you need to _go. home_.”  
  
Stiles huffs and pushes, the Alpha letting him and taking a step back. He climbs into the Jeep and doesn’t look at Derek as he drives off.  
  
Forget being nice, Stiles is ready to get downright mean. Because he’s done with getting screwed over by werewolves.  
  
Done.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember. silly!fic. repeat it with me. silly. fic. *now goes and hides*

****  
  
_Tuesday - Jackson_  
  
It is probably no surprise that his most painful prank is reserved for Jackson and Jackson alone. Because even after becoming a werewolf and joining Derek’s pack, finding a place where he sorta-kinda belonged, he is still a douchebag of epic proportions. He still likes to push Stiles around (literally when it comes to lacrosse), mock him with low-grade insults that don’t really hurt or sting even but still annoy him. And then there’s Lydia.  
  
Whenever Jackson sees Stiles nearing or glancing at them from further away his lips quirk up into this dumb-ass grin that screams arrogance as he pulls Lydia closer, or strokes her side or even pulls her in for a kiss. To be fair, Stiles isn’t as stupid about Lydia as he was before, but he still has that respectful admiration for her, a lot of the times he’s in awe of her. She’s no longer perfect in his eyes, someone who can stand to be around Jackson for this long _can’t be_ , can’t be but this tiny part of him would still like to know what it’s like to hold her, to be the one who gets to pull her in for a kiss.  
  
A bigger part of him wants to try that with Derek, but ah- that seems even more irrational, impossible, _really unlikely_.  
  
But the point is, Jackson is an ass and needs to be punished. Stiles wishes he could go, "Dishonor on your whole family!", but according to his grandma, their magic doesn’t work like that. It needs a clearer intention, almost a visual idea before the magic is let loose.   
  
So, Stiles goes for pain.  
  
And not just pain. Pain caused by Lydia.  
  
-  
  
“Hey, let’s hang out here for a while,” Stiles says, patting his Jeep’s hood invitingly.  
  
Scott’s eyes narrow, “What, why?”  
  
“No reason, just, let’s wait for everyone to arrive?”  
  
“Ok _ay_ , but for the record, this is really. weird.”  
  
“Oh God, you’re cutting off your sentences. Scott!” He grabs the other by the shoulders, “This is a sign! You’re hanging out at Derek’s way too much, man. Next thing you know, you’ll be running around, threatening everybody ‘cause things aren’t going your way.”  
  
Scott opens his mouth to reply but Stiles’ head snaps to the left when he hears a car pull up next to his Jeep. _Jackson’s_ car.  
  
He flails but manages to get to the passenger’s side before Lydia can open the door, doing it for her. She gets out with an apprehensive look on her face.  
  
“Good morning, Stiles?” She asks carefully.  
  
He grins and bobs his head, “Good morning! Missed you, did you miss me?” And before she can reply, he gives her a big hug, thanking his lucky star that she doesn’t struggle but just stands there, frozen to the spot. He uses this tiny opportunity to let his magic _zing_ , to make a connection, to feel her out. Then he backs off before she can start screaming and salutes jauntily.  
  
“Love your new perfume,” he remarks calmly and ignores Lydia’s outraged gasp.  
  
“Hey, asswipe. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”  
  
Stiles then turns to Jackson and takes a big breath. Now comes the hard part. _It’ll be worth it_ , he tells himself. _Pretend it’s Scott, pretend it’s Scott, pretend it’s Scott_ \-    
  
Jackson’s eyes widen as Stiles comes up to him and he starts to back off, hands coming up to ward him off when Stiles just glomps him, their faces pressed together cheek-by-cheek.  
  
Woah, he actually feels dizzy with disgust. Although, Jackson feels firm in a _good_ way. He doesn’t smell half bad, either, obviously taking care of himself. Stiles is pretty sure that’s his conditioner he can smell and unknowingly takes a deeper whiff of it. Hmm, _nice_.  
  
“Stiles. Get the hell. Off of me.”  
  
“Wow, have you all gotten the 101 on Cutting. Off. Your. Sentences or something?” He asks nervously but refuses to let go just yet, quickly dipping into his core and using the memory of Lydia to create a little spell, his skin tingling as he transfers it onto Jackson.  
  
He hopes to God this works. Because he might just have Jackson-cooties, _ew_.  
  
Stiles steps back and slaps Jackson on the shoulder amicably, ignoring the furious glare, the clenched fists and also the way both Lydia and Scott are staring at him like he’s lost his mind.  
  
“Missed you too, buddy!” He says, grinning.  
  
Jackson fumes, “Are you fucking kidding me, Stilinski?”  
  
“Aww, back to last names? I thought we got over that Jack, my boy.”  
  
“Call me that again and I’ll break your fingers. Come on, Lydia.” He doesn’t wait for her, heading into the school right away. Lydia sends Stiles a quick bewildered glare before following her boyfriend.  
  
“Oh, come off your high horse, Jackson!” Stiles shouts after them. “You know you love me! Who can ever resist this?” He liberally gestures to all of himself. He’s unhappy to see that they don’t touch as they enter the school, unsure if his spell is gonna work or not.  
  
When he finally turns back to Scott expectantly, he receives a suspicious stare.  
  
“Who the hell are you and what have you done with Stiles?”  
  
The worst thing is, Scott sounds absolutely, 100% serious.  
  
He sighs wearily, walking up the steps. “Oh, Scotty. You have no idea.” And then, just to annoy his friend further, he starts humming _Scotty Doesn’t Know_.  
  
-  
  
Sadly, Jackson and Lydia refuse to be joined together at the hip like they usually are. During the first half of the school day, they exchange winks and smiles but they _don’t touch_.   
  
Scott’s noticed how intensely Stiles is observing them and when he finally asks about it, Stiles shrugs, able to relax now that Lydia is sitting in the front, far away from Jackson , “Just wondering if they’re breaking up or something, because come on, they’ve barely even looked at each other today.”  
  
“Fat chance, Stilinski,” Jackson quips up from behind him, flicking at the back of Stiles’ neck. He flinches and turns around to glare.  
  
“ _Ouch_ , dude.”  
  
“Besides, stop pretending like you actually still have a boner over Lydia. We all know that’s not true.”  
  
He gapes at Jackson and then turns to gape at Scott, who pointedly looks elsewhere.  
  
“Scott?”  
  
“It’s just, you’ve kind of been... obvious?”  
  
“Obvious about _what_ , Scott?”  
  
And that’s when Finstock flies in and his best friend refuses to acknowledge Stiles throughout the lesson. Stiles even gets reprimanded and has to bear Finstock making a short lecture on how to take rejection like a man - considering the dozen balled up paper notes on Scott’s desks, Stiles can see how the coach got the wrong idea on this.  
  
But seriously, he just wants to know, _what_ were the two talking about.  
  
-  
  
Lunch is officially Stiles’ favorite time of the day. (It might have been before as well, but details-)  
  
Because shit gets _real_ during lunch now. He’s still prodding at Scott to make the guy reveal what the hell the werewolves are hiding from him, although from Scott’s constant blushing, Jackson’s cruel smirks and now Erica’s knowing smiles, Stiles has a fair idea on what he’s been so obvious about.  
  
Erica’s known for a while now and she’s never hid it, always ripping into him about his pathetic attraction to their Alpha. But she also told him that she can keep a secret and she’s refrained from making any comments when others are near. Obviously, her tact wasn’t necessary if _everybody knows_.  
  
Stiles would really like to know _how_ they know, though.   
  
All that aside, when Lydia joins their group, things get interesting. Stiles can’t help but perk up a little at the sight of her. His eyes follow her movements as she slides in next to Jackson and leans in for a kiss. The moment her lips touch the guy’s cheek, it’s like a shock wave goes through his body as he shudders and shifts away from her, shoulder colliding with Isaac’s. Boyd grunts as he gets shoved as well and Erica almost falls off the edge of her seat, Boyd’s quick reflexes keeping her in place.  
  
All eyes turn to Jackson.  
  
“What’s wrong, babe?” Lydia asks, eyes big and questioning.  
  
“Uh, I’m not sure,” Jackson adjusts himself a little, face pinched with lingering pain.  
  
Stiles has to suck in his lips as to hide the widest grin ever.   
  
“You look sick, maybe you’re coming down with something,” And like a caring girlfriend, Lydia easily reaches out to touch Jackson’s forehead.  
  
“Wait- _Fucking_ -” Jackson clambers up from his seat, hands going down to clutch at his _crotch_.   
  
Lydia is baffled and angry because she doesn’t like things she can’t explain, define or solve. She stands up too and Stiles coughs to mask a chuckle as all of the three Betas’ heads fly up to keep their eyes on the two.  
  
“Jackson, calm down and tell me what’s going on.”  
  
“I don’t _know_ , Lydia,” Jackson squeezes out, looking like he’s about to panic.  
  
Stiles wonders if he’s a bad person for enjoying this so much. Probably.  
  
“If you just let me-”  
  
“No! No, don’t come any closer.”  
  
Lydia hesitates, her head tilting in a way that indicates she’s about to get tired and snappy. “If you just explain what’s going on and actually let us work out a solution, you won’t have to look like the nutjob holding his _genitals_ in the school cafeteria,” she says, her voice going quieter towards the end.  
  
Jackson’s hands quickly fly up from his crotch and he looks around worriedly, mouth tightening when he sees almost everyone’s eyes on him.   
  
“I’m... going to the bathroom.”  
  
They watch in silence as he grabs his bag and hurries away. Lydia huffs and follows him, muttering about stupid boys and their _inability to use words_.  
  
“What the hell was that about?” Scott asks, Stiles now noticing the fork with macaroni on it that he’s holding near his mouth. He helps his buddy out by taking a hold of his hand and pushing the fork into Scott’s open mouth.   
  
“St- shwumph-” Scott chews angrily and swallows before crying out, “ _Dude_!”  
  
Stiles shrugs, “You looked like you were stuck, I just de-bugged you.”  
  
Isaac is still glancing towards the direction Jackson and Lydia disappeared to, “Hey guys, do you think this might have something to do with yesterday?”  
  
“Yesterday?” Erica asks obnoxiously, frowning at Isaac.  
  
“You mean...” Scott pauses, “The me smelling _very very good_ incident?”  
  
Stiles smiles awkwardly, “Nah, how can they be connected? We don’t even know what Jackson’s problem is. Maybe he just has... issues... with his,” He makes a few suggestive gestures and then scratches the back of his neck nervously. Boyd is looking at all of them with a nonplussed look on his face.  
  
“Ever since last year you guys have been so paranoid. Sometimes weird things happen,” he shrugs, “Doesn’t mean there’s a new Big Bad in town.”  
  
“Was that a Buffy reference?” Stiles gapes and lets out a choking sound as Boyd smirks at him, Erica grinning happily and wrapping an arm around the boy’s shoulders.  
  
“I made him watch it all with me this summer,” she proclaims proudly.  
  
Stiles shakes his head, “No, _no_ , Buffy references? Are _my_ thing.” He looks at Scott, “Tell them they’re my thing,” Scott just nods vigorously, agreeing with Stiles as he then turns back to the three Betas, “At least leave it at that. I have a lot of other stuff up my sleeve, so you can have Buffy.” He points sharply at Boyd, “But only Buffy, okay, big boy?”  
  
Boyd replies by taking a big bite out of his sandwich.  
  
-  
  
The rest of the day is like an episode of Benny Hill.  
  
Jackson runs past, Lydia follows.   
  
And with each hour that passes, Jackson looks more and more like he’s about to burst into tears any second while Lydia looks ready to murder someone, _anyone_.   
  
Stiles can’t help but laugh a few times and when he does, Scott gives him this look of contemplation that has his mind going _abort, abort_ \-   
  
Because if Scott figures out that Stiles is behind this? The secret will be out and he’s really just getting started.  
  
But as they leave at the end of the day, and see Jackson actually crying in the parking lot, hands covering his groin, crouched against the side of his car and Lydia standing there next to him, holding her hands against her chest and wearing an expression of disbelief, Stiles thinks he might have taken it a little bit too far with this one. He imagines having one’s balls pinched once would suck real bad on its own but to experience it multiple times in the course of a few hours? Yeah, so he should probably stop it now. Lydia looks like she might have finally realised it’s her touch causing it, anyway which means the joke’s pretty much over.  
  
Stiles concentrates and snaps his fingers.  
  
And receives the attention of _everyone_.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Dude,” Scott says, emphasising the word in a meaningful way.  
  
Stiles glances at his fingers and then back at the four werewolves, all of them curious and narrowing their eyes at him. He then looks towards Jackson who has stopped crying and is glaring at him as if Stiles is the bad guy for interrupting his pity party with a _snap_ and Lydia... Lydia is looking like she’s figured something out- _abort, abort_ -  
  
“Oh you mean the snap? I just remembered something, that’s all,” Woah, what a proud moment. And he was doing so well on the lying front.   
  
The ‘Three Betas’ (that’s what Stiles calls them in his head, because they were the three first true Betas of Derek’s pack and they’re like their own entity, almost always appearing or leaving together) react as they usually do - eye rolls and sighs - before heading for the car that Derek got Boyd for his last birthday. Apparently, he’s the most reliable one and Derek just has money to spare.  
  
Scott however looks like he’s hurting himself by thinking too much, “What did you remember?”  
  
“What does it matter? It’s personal, dude,” He shoves the other for good measure. Scott blinks but then shrugs.  
  
“Alright, alright. Drive me to Allison’s? I wanna see how she’s feeling, she sounded awful this morning.”  
  
“Yeah, well that teaches you not to drag your _human_ girlfriend into cold-ass water, man.”  
  
“Shh!” Scott waves at him, glancing around the parking lot.   
  
“There’s hardly anyone here, dude! Everybody fucked off the second the bell rang.” He receives a glare and shrugs violently, his schoolbag almost dropping from his shoulder. He hitches it up again, about to follow Scott who’s turned around and is heading for the Jeep when a petite figure steps in his way.  
  
“Did you have something to do with this?” Lydia hisses at him.  
  
Stiles’ eyes widen and he takes in how both Scott’s and Jackson’s heads have perked up, attention solely on this conversation.  
  
“What? How could I have had something to do with this?” He gestures weakly at Jackson’s crouched form, “I don’t even know what _this_ is!”  
  
Lydia points at him, lips tightly pressed together and eyes sharp with deadly threats.  
  
“I _swear_ , I didn’t have anything to do with it, Lydia!”  
  
She steps back, huffs and then makes a show of turning around, crouching down to grab Jackson’s hand even though he flinched back the moment she drew near. There’s a tense moment and then Jackson relaxes, going “Huh.”  
  
Lydia stands up and turns to raise her eyebrows sassily, before getting into Jackson’s car, “Come on, we’re leaving.”  
  
Stiles watches silently as they drive off and then he’s left with Scott standing before him, eyes narrowed again in suspicion.  
  
“ _I didn’t do anything!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next up: erica.


	3. Part Three

_Wednesday - Erica_

He thinks about taking a day off from magical shenanigans since Lydia pretty much just figured out Stiles _did_ have something to do with yesterday’s incident and even Scott is starting to suspect something.

But then he thinks of what he has planned and he can’t wait to get it started so no, no taking time off. He’ll rather take the chance to keep fucking with everybody, before Lydia reveals her theory.

In preparation for Erica’s prank, all he does is don a new style. So, he can honestly ask for her opinion. And then maybe force the truth out of her.

His grandma would be _hitting_ him with a wooden spoon at the moment, not just threatening him with it. But hey, his grandma is in Poland.

What she doesn’t know won’t make her hurt him.

-

Scott wears a face of shock when Stiles pulls up at his house. He’s already seen the glasses.

As soon as he gets inside the car and sees the rest, he chokes on air.

“What are you wearing?”

“You know, lately I feel like you’re not supporting me with my decisions like a best bud should, Scott,” He starts as he takes off for school, “I mean, first the moustache, now the clothes, what’s next? The music I listen to?” He pointedly turns on his cheap little cd player/radio and Imagine Dragons’ _It’s Time_ starts playing.

“I...” Scott looks confused, “I really like that song. But _you_ don’t.”

“See? You’re being all judg-y again,” he accompanies this statement with wiggly fingers.

“Just. Stiles, _what the hell_. You- I don’t understand what’s happening!”

“Don’t get so worked up about it, I’m experimenting with different things.” Stiles shrugs.

“But, the glasses, you don’t even need glasses.”

“Yeah, no, they’re like, decoration. Apparently, these black nerdy frames are really popular right now.”

“And-and- Are those _skinny jeans_? Are you wearing a cardigan!?”

“Yes and yes. Okay, so. Calm down and I’ll explain, it’s really no big deal.” He takes a deep breath as he steers them through the half-empty streets, “So, my grandma’s friend works in fashion. And lately, she’s been obsessed with our trends here, like the clothes American teenagers wear? And so when she met me, she literally couldn’t keep her hands off me. Measured this, measured that and made me wear all kinds of things, that I won’t tell you about, because it was _traumatizing_. Before I left, she gave me a few things to wear, saying that I’d look awesome in them. So. I’m trying it out?”

They reach the school parking lot and he parks smoothly, before turning to look at Scott, who’s expressions screams ‘I don’t get this’.

“It’s like, my best friend went to Poland and never came back.”

“That is way over-dramatic, dude. I’m still me! Just an improved version? With different clothes. Is the hair still freaking you out, by the way? Because it’s freaking _me_ out, everytime I look in the mirror.” Stiles leans over to check himself out in the rear-view mirror. He plays with his hair a bit, unused to the feeling of it but learning to like it bit by bit.

“It’s just, things have been weird and we haven’t even gotten through our first week of senior year!”

“Well, what did you expect? This is Beacon Hills, baby,” He hits the other’s shoulder with the back of his hand, grinning and is relieved when Scott rolls his eyes but smiles.

“Yeah, I guess...”

They get out of the car and before they even reach the school, Scott spots Allison.

“Oh, she’s feeling better already?” Stiles asks curiously.

Scott’s frowning in worry, “No... She sounded really sick last night. I’m gonna go check up on her, see you in class?”

Stiles nods readily and once he’s standing by the doors by himself he does a fistpump of success. Now he’s gotta find Erica before the bell rings.

-

“What are you wearing?”

Today must be his lucky day, because he’s at his locker and Erica’s come to _him_.

Stiles turns around with a flourish, “Do you like?”

She’s wearing an expression of mild surprise and Stiles takes note of the way her eyes linger on his legs and crotch before finally flicking up to meet his eyes.

“Oh I don’t know, I’m not sure you can pull off the hipster look, honey.”

“No, but seriously. People are already giving me looks and I’m kind of self-conscious here.” He steps closer and grabs Erica’s cheeks and ignores her indignant look, focusing as he tries to appear serious, “Tell me what you really think. I mean, don’t hide anything, don’t even worry about it. Just say the first thing that comes to mind.” He then steps back, skin tingling as he raises his arms and does a little twirl, almost careening into the lockers in the process.

Erica shakes her head woozily and then blinks and stares.

“You look _hot_.”

Stiles grins, pleased as hell, “Yeah? Don’t you think the jeans are a little tight?”

“Are you kidding me?” Erica raises an eyebrow deviously, “They make your cute little butt stand out. I bet Derek would _love_ to see you in those.”

“What? Why would Derek wanna-”

“Because he’s like totally into you?” Erica huffs, “I mean, surely you know? I always figured you two were just pining from afar because you were waiting for your 18th birthday so your father won’t arrest Derek for getting it on with a teenager but then again,” She waves at him nonchalantly, “Here you are, of legal age, _boyfriendless_ , still a virgin and there’s Derek,” She waves in the general direction of the rest of the town, “In his loft, by himself, brooding and pining and probably jerking off while-”

Stiles slaps a hand over her mouth. It seems, he has opened the floodgates. He wonders if he should end it now, but then the bell rings and Erica pushes him off angrily.

“Get off me, Stiles. I don’t know where that hand’s been.” The corners of her mouth quirk up, “Oh wait, I do.” She steps closer and whispers, “We can pretty much smell it when someone’s gotten off recently. The scent of come? It _lingers_ ,” She draws out the word, tongue moving seductively.

Stiles stands there, frozen to the spot as she giggles and heads for their first lesson. It takes him about ten seconds to snap out of it and start running for the classroom.

The implications she just made. Stiles is freaking out. Again he wonders if he should cut the spell off now, because who knows what kind of disturbing, confusing things Erica’s gonna let out of her mouth.

But then the teacher calls on her. Erica makes a face at the question.

“I’ve got no idea, sorry,” she says and the whole class is now very very interested.

“Did you do the reading, Ms Reyes?”

“Nope, I had better things to do,” Erica gives the teacher a winning smile.

She receives detention and Stiles cheers, realizing this may yet become very entertaining. It’s about time everyone saw her true colors. Stiles gives himself another mental pat on the back.

-

Another two teachers dare to call on Erica, and she receives detention from both of them. The best part is, because Stiles added the ‘ _don’t even worry about it_ ’ part to his little spell - total improvisation, by the way - Erica doesn’t even care. She looks bored most of the time.

Lunch however, is awkward as hell. By now they all know that something is up with Erica and they all try to talk to her, find out what’s going on. Except, she keeps revealing her thoughts and Stiles never expected them to be _this_ sexual.

“-it’s always the quiet ones, you know? They get real freaky when the lights go out. I bet you’re bisexual, I bet you’d like a dick in your mouth while you pound away at me-”

“Somebody, please make her stop,” Isaac squeaks, grabbing his tray and leaving their table.

For once, Stiles doesn’t even have to pretend to be surprised, because his face is mirroring Scott’s in every way. They’re both gaping at Erica in disbelief, who’s sitting opposite to him as always and is now leaning on Boyd’s shoulder, pressing her chest against his arm. Boyd’s eyes are glued to the table. Stiles has never seen the guy look so uncomfortable and out of place.

“When are you going to take me out? I think I’ve waited long enough.”

“I, uh... What, you mean like on a date?”

“Yeah, on a date, dumbass.”

Boyd glances at her nervously, “You actually want to date me?”

“For fuck’s sake, I’ve been crushing on you pretty much since we became a pack,” She shifts and slides her arms around his waist, hands rubbing softly. _Stiles_ feels uncomfortable now. “Don’t you like me back?” Erica pouts and rests her chin on his shoulder.

Boyd clears his throat loudly, “I, um, yeah, I do-”

“Great! So take me out for a movie, and I’ll finally get to suck on that massive dick you’ve been holding out on me,” Her left hand slides down until Stiles can’t see it any more. There’s a thump against the table as Boyd’s knee shoots up and then he’s clambering back and away from the table.

“I’ll just-” He turns around and joins Isaac two tables down.

“ _Erica_!” Scott finally manages to squeeze out, sounding like there’s something lodged in his throat.

“What?” She asks, continuing her early thieving as she snaps up fries from Stiles’ tray.

“You- You can’t say things like that!”

“Things like what?” Erica snaps, eyes flashing.

Stiles holds out his hands, “Calm down, now. You’ve been talking about dicks and sucking and fucking for the past five minutes, don’t you find it a little _ahem_ \- inappropriate, considering that some of us are eating?”

“Oh buck up, Scott. And while I get why he wouldn’t wanna hear about dicks, I don’t see why _you’re_ complaining.” She tilts her head and Stiles screams at himself for drawing her attention to him. “I’ve seen you drooling while staring at Derek’s crotch, you know. Probably imagining drooling _on_ his crotch, right? Making it real wet so it’d be easy to suck down-”

“Oh, God.” Scott says, looking nauseous. Stiles agrees.

“-and it wouldn’t be easy, trust me. I’ve seen his dick, while it’s not as big as Boyd’s I imagine, it’s still above average and a little virgin like you would probably have a hard time with it.” She starts giggling, “A _hard_ time, oh man, I crack myself up.”

“...You’ve seen it? You’ve _seen_ it? Why have you seen it!?” Screw hiding his interest, he needs to know.

“When we sometimes have our pack sleepovers-”

“Oh my God, puppy piles _are_ a thing!?”

“-no, Stiles, sleepovers as in we’re all sleeping separately. The sound of each other’s breathing and feeling the presence of your pack is comforting, alright?”

“More like creepy. You listen to each other _breathe_?”

“Anyway,” Erica says loudly, annoyed. “Derek walks around naked sometimes, during the night. I’ve taken a peek or two.” She shrugs, like it’s no big deal. Except it is. Big. According to her.

Stiles’ brain may have been broken.

“Don’t remind me,” Scott grumbles and takes a big gulp of water.

“What!? You’ve seen it too!?”

“Only by accident! And I really wish I hadn’t, dude!”

Stiles feels he may need to do some breathing exercises before he can manage to calm down.

“Hey guys,” Allison croaks out as she and Lydia join them. Lydia is shooting confused looks at the two Betas separate from them, both looking tense and wary.

“Why are Boyd and Isaac sitting way over there?” She asks, sitting next to Erica. Allison receives a kiss on the cheek from Scott and smiles happily, looking radiant even though she’s pale and clammy and still very obviously sick.

“Because Erica scared them off,” Stiles groans, gesturing at the girl who is still calmly eating his fries. To be fair, Stiles hasn’t even touched them, because he doesn’t really have an appetite at the moment. The words ‘ _because he’s totally into you’_ still occasionally make an appearance in his head, floating by and making him think of Derek and the fact that Erica really believes this to be true which raises up all kinds of questions that have his stomach rolling from anxiety.

“Oh, and how did she do that?” Allison asks, giggling but then growing quiet. Stiles shakes his head to clear it and then takes in how Erica’s staring at Allison. At _Allison_. Scott looks like he doesn’t know whether to be angry or terrified.

“You have lovely dimples.”

Lydia’s expression screams ‘ _Are you fucking kidding me?_ ’

Allison laughs nervously, “Uh, thank you?”

“Would love to lick them-”

“Now, woah, _woah_ -” Scott tries to stop her.

“-or even better, would love to see them as you smile up at me from between my legs.” Erica finishes.

A moment of silence lingers before Scott pushes his tray away from him abruptly and collapses on the table.

“I give up,” he moans pitifully.

Stiles pats him on the back gently. “You tried, my friend. You tried.”

“What is wrong with you?” Since Allison is probably too nice to react to such a comment coming from a friend, Lydia takes charge.

Erica huffs, “Look, I’m just really horny, okay?”

“No, but,” Stiles butts in, “Is sex always the first thing on your mind? That’s all you’ve been talking about today.”

“No, not always,” Erica admits and then whines softly, surprising Stiles, “I’m on my period and female werewolves get like _super_ horny during that time of the month, okay?”

Lydia flips her hair over her shoulder, scoffing, “You’ve had your period as a werewolf for a year now. You’ve never been this open about it.”

“I don’t know? Maybe it’s just a really bad one this time around?”

And then Erica slumps down and joins Scott with the pose of misery.

Stiles sighs deeply, “Well, then. That was information, I really didn’t need to know.”

Erica sits back up while taking a deep breath, “I’m going home to masturbate.” She stands up gracefully.

“While you’re on your period?” Lydia asks, disgust clear in her tone.

Erica’s eyes flash, “I’m not in the mood for your bitchy little comments so how about you shut your stupid ducklips up before I tear them off your face.” Without waiting for a reply, she strides out of the cafeteria.

Lydia clears her throat, “I bet if Jackson were here she wouldn’t have made that threat.” Jackson having staid at home, probably too embarrassed to show his face because of yesterday.

“Um, Jackson is afraid of Erica,” Stiles tells her slowly.

“ _Everyone_ is afraid of Erica,” Scott continues.

“Sometimes,” Allison whispers, leaning in closer to Lydia, “I think even _Derek_ is afraid of Erica.”

She rolls her eyes, “What is there to be so afraid about?”

“Were you not here just a moment ago?” Scott asks her, his tone implying she’s lost her mind. Stiles again, agrees silently.

“Whatever,” she says and leaves as well.

Stiles tries to snap his fingers a bit more covertly this time. It doesn’t work.

“Remembered something again?” Scott asks, eyes narrowed.

_Yeah, according to Erica, Derek jerks off while thinking about me._

“Nothing important. Let’s go.”

They still have classes to muddle through.

-

That night, while he's surfing away on the web, his phone rings. He sees the slightly over-dramatic name ( _Bane of My Existence_ ) and hesitates before accepting the call.

"Yeah?"

"Erica's here. She told me what happened today at school,” Derek says, getting straight to the point.

Stiles feels his whole body, his blood freeze, "Um, what happened?"

"She said some embarrassing things? She's kind of freaking out about it. I could only understand half of what she said, but I think she confessed to Boyd?"

"Oh yeah, yeah she did. Asked him to take her out so she could suck hi- and anyway, why are you calling me?" So not talking about dicks with Derek on the phone.

A moment of silence, Stiles can easily imagine Derek frowning at a random piece of furniture as he tries to find the right words.

"..She also said that she told you some stuff about me."

"Oh?" He asks, his voice high as a squeak, Stiles clears his throat and tries again with his normal voice, "Oh?"

"Look," Derek sighs heavily, "I think we need to talk."

"We are? Talking?"

"We need to talk face to face, I mean. You've misunderstood some things and I... Erica thinks I should have made myself clear from the start but..."

"But?" _Misunderstood? Made himself clear?_ He has no idea if Derek’s about to confess or reject him and Stiles finds the uncertainty terrifying.

"Like I said, we need to talk."

"Okay... now?"

"No. Tomorrow. When you’re all here anyway"

"Oh, you... want to talk about this in front of the others?"

"No, I mean. Once they leave."

Him and Derek alone. In Derek's loft. Where Derek sleeps. Where Derek sleeps _naked_.

Stiles might be getting his hopes up. Just a little.

"Yeah, okay. Okay, we can do that. Tomorrow."

"Good. And Stiles?"

"Hm?"

"Whatever you're doing, don't let it get too far, alright?"

Stiles chokes on his tongue, glancing at the open tabs on his laptop. "Are you monitoring me or something?"

"...What?"

He chuckles nervously, "Never mind." Of course he's not talking about the quite kinky and maybe a bit extreme porn videos Stiles has lined up for the night (for research, okay!?).

"..." Derek's silence is poignant somehow and Stiles' mouth opens and closes for quite some time, unsure of how to continue or end this conversation.

He finally says, "Awkward silence is really weird to experience over the phone, Derek."

"Why haven't you hung up yet, then?" Derek asks as if it's Stiles' fault.

"B-Because _you_ haven't!" He stammers out.

"Fine," Derek says and hangs up.

Stiles takes his phone away from his ear, staring at it in disbelief. _Who does that?_

"Why do I even like your stupid ass, I have no idea," he moans to himself, slumping down on his table in silent mortification.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next up - surprise!


	4. Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay, still following schedule! i apologise for the odd spacing. i've had this trouble before on other fics and i can never figure out how to fix it besides redoing the whole formatting; ugh, not exactly in the mood. e_e

_ Thursday - Danny  _   
  
Here's the thing. Stiles doesn't have anything against Danny, not really. The guy's the best classmate you can have - he's nice to everybody, always tries to help if he can, it wouldn't surprise Stiles if Danny's the most liked person in the whole school. The fact that he's hot and the greatest goalie the lacrosse team has had in years (according to Finstock) probably helps as well.

So why do this to him?

There's this one little thing, that made a bit of an impact on his life, his self-worth perhaps. It's a silly little thing, but it kind of haunted Stiles for months. And as Stiles admitted before, he's vindictive.

And he's done hiding it.

-

Scott keeps sending him these weird looks during the drive to school. They're barely talking (just the occasional ' _what_? ' from Stiles and Scott's  ' _nuthin_ ' in reply). His friend looks like he's expecting or dreading something.  Stiles figures he knows what the deal is, he just hopes he's wrong.

At school, it takes a few hours before Stiles can manage to approach Danny without it seeming weird or making it obvious that he's up to something. Well, more like Mr Harris manages to actually be helpful for once as he pairs them together for the lesson.

Danny's eyes go up and down in a clear ' _ checking out _ ' gesture that makes Stiles flush a little.

"Trying out a new style?" He asks, showing off his dimples as he smiles.

Stiles realises he's just curious and sighs, "Yeah, figured layers weren't doing me any favours."

Danny nods, expression sympathetic, "Well, this one's kind of working for you."

"Yeah, you think?" Stiles asks, bashful.

Danny nods again kindly and then turns to the project spread out before them. Stiles makes sure that at one point, their hands reach for the same thing and they accidentally touch. During that one second of skin contact he tries to send the spell over. It's the rushing that might have caused what comes next.

"Oh, sorry-" Danny starts, chuckling and looking totally at ease when suddenly his eyes widen, a weird noise escaping him and he spurts out, "You are attractive."

Stiles' expression mirrors Danny's as he tries to figure out a reply, "Um. Thanks?"

"I mean-" Danny tries again frantically but ends it with, "You are attractive."

Stiles sucks in his lips as he realizes his spell malfunctioned. Danny was supposed to _find_ Stiles the most beautiful-godlike being ever for the day,  _ attractive _ as hell. But apparently, he just can't stop  _ saying  _ it.

But he can work with this.

Although it isn't as subtle as he would like.

Danny's turned away and is squinting at the glass vials in mortification and Stiles feels a bit bad for him.

"Is something up? That was kind of weird."

"Yeah, no, I just- You are attractive. Why can't I- You are attractive. I don't- You are attractive." Now, Danny looks frustrated with himself. "Let's just not sp- You are attrac- _God_ _dammit_ - tive."

Okay, Stiles is amused now. He hides his smile behind his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, the other hand following the instructions for the experiment.

Danny doesn't speak to him, even when Stiles asks if he's okay at the end of class. He just scrambles up and away from the table.

As he's sitting next to Scott during their next lesson, his high hopes come crashing down when he sees the other's angry face.

"Danny? You went after Danny now!?" Scott asks, not even bothering to whisper. Stiles is so happy everyone else is absent; Isaac and Boyd probably too embarrassed to face Erica, Erica too embarrassed to face anyone, Jackson still having a hissy fit about holding his jewels in front of everybody, Allison giving up and admitting she's still too sick to attend and Lydia...

Why is Lydia absent? Stiles doesn't actually know (or care).

He licks his lips and eyes his friend thoughtfully, "How long have you known?" He receives an incredulous look from Scott.

"Uh, try like from the very beginning?"

He frowns, "At the airport? Already?"

"What, no, wait. You used magic at the airport?"

Stiles scratches at his neck slowly, shrugging, "I might have?" At Scott's impatient glare he gives in, "Fine, the hair and the moustache -  _ both _ were real."

"Oh wow, you can-  _ Wow _ ."

"Yeah," Stiles grins proudly but then shakes his head, "Getting off track, when did  you  figure it out then?"

"When I had washed myself in the creek and Derek said the smell was gone? Dude, the only thing that was different than usual that day was me wearing the aftershave  _ you  _ gave me."

"Huh. I never expected you to figure that out," Stiles admits, raising his eyebrows at him in silent admiration.

Scott, however, looks insulted, "How dumb do you think I am?"

"I think it's better for our friendship if I don't answer that question," Stiles replies quickly, breathing in deeply.

"Fine. Whatever. Let's get back to Danny.  Why  are you tormenting _him_? Me and Jackson? Totally get it. Even Erica was fine (until she hit on my girlfriend). But Danny? No one hates Danny. There's no reason to be mad at the guy! None!"

"That's true," Stiles acquiesces with a flourish, "But. There was a moment in sophomore year where he kind of implied that I'm not attractive." He places his hands on his chest, a cocky look on his face, "I can't just let that go, Scott."

Scott's face speaks for him.  _ I'm tired of your shit, Stiles _ .

Danny chooses that moment to make it worse. He comes up to them, or well,  _ Stiles, _ and tries  real hard  to say something normal.

"Look, I'm not- You are attractive. Hitting on- You are attractive. You or some- You are attractive. I'm just- You are attractive. Something weird- You are attractive." Danny looks defeated. "I give- You are attractive,  _Ugh_! " He turns back around and leaves Stiles to deal with Scott's outrage.

"How is that not that bad? He's freaking out, man!"

Stiles is cringing, "Yeah, that's not exactly what I planned?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, he was supposed to  find  me attractive suddenly, like awfully-stupidly-gorgeous attractive, not say it to my face every time he talks to me. Only   _I_   was supposed to know about his humiliation, but I kind of screwed up the spell and," he scratches the back of his head sheepishly, "Voila?"

"Why don't you just," And here Scott snaps his fingers, almost violently.

"You figured that out too, huh?" Stiles asks, bummed out.

Scott's face does the speaking once again,  _ Give me a break, Stiles. Are you fucking kidding me, Stiles. _

He sighs, "I don't want to yet, okay?"

"Dude." And that coupled with Scott's heavy glare aka  _ squinty  _ face is all the other needs to do to get Stiles to give up.

"Fine," he growls out and does a show of snapping his fingers.

Scott blinks rapidly, "Is that it?"

"Yup. The spell's ended. Apparently each magic user needs their own little thing that they associate with ending spells. I chose a snap, because come _on_ , it  looks cool  but now I'm kind of regretting it. My grandma did laugh at me and tell me I was gonna regret it. Hers is scratching her eyebrow, a lot more subtle and  _ better _ , I realize now."

Scott's nodding but then he snaps up eagerly, "Wait, so your grandma taught you?"

Now Stiles is the one squinting, "Well, yeah. Where else did you figure I learned all this from?"

"I don't know," Scott shrugs, "Thought maybe you were getting some secret lessons from Deaton or something."

He scoffs, "Deaton  _ wishes _ he could do the things I can do." He wiggles his eyebrows. And finally, he can share what he experienced during the month he spent in Poland. And already there's a look of awe in Scott's face that Stiles would love to get used to seeing.

Lunch and the last few lessons are spent with a lot of paper notes and avid conversations about Stiles and Stiles' magic.

He's really liking being the  topic  of a conversation without it being about one of his fuck ups.

Danny, however, does his best to avoid Stiles.

-

Practice was no worse than usual, fortunately no suicide runs which means Stiles actually doesn't feel  _ suicidal _ afterwards. Seriously, most accurate name for anything _ever_.

As he and Scott are changing their clothes after their showers, Danny approaches them. Or well,  _ Stiles _ . (Even though, this is for totally wrong reasons, Stiles likes being the one who's approached for once. Usually, everyone has something to discuss with Scott and he's just there, the annoying best friend who won't  _ leave _ .)

Danny is already fully dressed and has his  bag  hoisted over his shoulder but Stiles is still shirtless, and actually feels like holding his shirt in front of his  chest  because it looked like Danny's eyes strayed down there for a second. Wow, he's not used to feeling shy.

Danny takes a deep breath, bracing himself.

"Look, something really weird is happening and I'm really not hitting on you in a creepy way, it's just that it was kind of forced out of me and wow it's not happening  anymore ." Danny's shoulders relax and he blinks at Stiles, who blinks right back.

Stiles receives a nudge from Scott and realizes he should say something, "Yeah, no, I figured, man. It's okay, I know you don't see me that way," He shrugs, trying to look nonchalant, "I get it."

Danny frowns, taken aback, "It's not that I- I mean you  are  attractive, I'd have to be blind not to see it, I just. I wouldn't be that blatant about it?"

Stiles doesn't know what to say, "Uh..."

"But," Danny continues, rubbing the back of his neck, "If I were to hit on you and maybe ask you out, how would you react?"

Stiles brain has died. This can't be happening. "B-But you've never given any hint of liking me that way or liking me at all. We're not even  _friends_. "

"This is going to make me sound really shallow," Danny winces before he blurts out, "but your new look is  really  working on you. Like I said this morning."

"Oh, I thought you were just... being... nice. You know,  _ you _ ."

Danny clears his throat, "Well I was. But not just to be nice."

_ Oh God, how do I deal with this. How to be smooth, how to be smooth. I don't have the training needed for this situation, dear merciful Go- _

"He's taken," Scott pipes up.

Stiles's head whips around to his other side, absolutely baffled by what just came out of his best friend's mouth.

"Exc _ use _  me?" He draws it out, 'cause the situation's calling for it.

Scott looks bewildered, "Aren't you?"

Stiles turns back to Danny, who is also not following the conversation  anymore , frowning in confusion. "I have  no  idea what he's on about."

"Derek?" Scott asks pointedly and Stiles feels murderous.

"Derek _Who_?" He asks, turning to glare at his friend. "Derek, The Guy Who Does Not  Like  Me!?" He hopes he's getting the capitalization across.

"Doesn't like you?" It's a shame Scott looks adorable when confused. "Aren't you guys like secretly dating or something?"

" You too!? _Where_ is this coming from?"  Stiles shouts, freaking out now.

"I'm just gonna go," Danny says quietly and when neither of them even looks at him he does just that.

"You really don't know he's into you?"

" How  am I supposed to know that!? Erica said the same thing when she was under a truth spell and I still don't believe it. He barely tolerates me on his good days, Scott. Last year it seemed like it was getting better but you saw how it was this summer, man. All he did was tell me to  _ go. away. _  Like I'm some bad smell he can't get rid of."

Scott just stares at him silently and then mouths, ' _Wow_ ' to himself.

"What?" Stiles snaps, tugging on his shirt with angry, jerky movements.

"You're both kind of stupid," Scott calmly remarks, closes his locker and heads off for the parking lot.

Stiles stares after him for a drawn out moment before he's scrambling for his things and following him.

"What the hell does  that  mean!?"

-

"So, I think it's time you mark your territory or something, dude." Is literally the first thing out of Scott's mouth when Derek lets them in. Derek's eyebrows do their trademark move where they try to crawl down and  _ meet  _ each other.

"What?" He asks eloquently.

Stiles feels like he should clap a hand over his best friend's mouth. He freezes though when Derek finally looks at  him  and stares. In a way that's so  obviously  appreciative and even... wanting? Oh wow.

_ Oh wow. _

Stiles is not equipped with anything he could use for situations like this. He's mentally  and  physically unprepared for anyone to  _ like him back _ .

"Stiles got hit on today. He would have totally agreed to go out with Danny if I hadn't been there," Scott says, while  grinning , the bastard.

Stiles shoves him, ignoring how gracefully the other loses and finds his footing as he careens sideways.

But when he looks back at Derek, he stares. Because the man looks _sad_. Like angrily sad, because his eyebrows are still trying very hard to connect.

He laughs nervously, "We  really  need to have that talk, huh?" He asks, willing to be the one to bring it up first.

Derek nods, face softening a little, "Yeah." Then he gestures towards the living room, "But first, the reason I called you all here."

Oh, right. Stiles has no idea why that is. He's a bit surprised to find  everyone  there, considering some of them are feeling a bit awkward around others at the moment. But he feels like  he 's the one who has something to hide once he enters the room because there's a lot of attention on him all of a sudden, as if he's stepped into a spotlight.

This is getting a little  worrisome . Did Scott blab? Or did Lydia? Or did Derek somehow find out and that was what his last night's weird comment was about?

The silence is tense and getting a bit scary now. Although as he's looking from one face to another, he sees no anger or outrage at his expense. They all look... mildly uncomfortable?

"Fine, I'll get it over with," Jackson huffs and stands up. Stiles takes a step back at that and feels his back bump into something hard. He turns around and comes almost nose-to-nose with Derek. He takes another step back and flails as he then bumps into Jackson.

"Jesus, what the hell, guys. Personal bubble, I have one and I would like to keep it  personal  for now," he says as he places his hands on each of their chests and pushes, surprised when they actually move.

Then he ignores the  hurt  look on Derek's face ( _ Really? Did you turn into an actual puppy overnight? _ ) and focuses his attention on Jackson, letting his eyebrows quirk up expectantly.

Jackson does a lot of unhappy, reluctant faces before he finally manages to say, "I'm sorry."

"Whut?" Out of all the scenarios in his head? This was definitely not one of them.

"I'm sorry," Jackson repeats and this time it sounds a bit more dickish, a bit more  _ a la Jackson _ . "It's been pointed out to me, that you're a member of this pack, a  valuable and necessary  part. And I'm sorry, if I made you feel like anything less than that."

It sounded rehearsed, like someone had spoonfed the words to Jackson but hey. It's probably the only apology he's ever going to get from this guy. Stiles grins happily and claps him on his shoulders, ignoring Jackson's wince.

"I'll take it!"

"Just-" Jackson grunts furiously, "Just don't touch me, okay? I don't want you to use your mojo on me again."

"Aw, man. Does everybody know?" Stiles asks, dejected.

"Know what?" Isaac asks.

"Well, good to know someone doesn't!" He flashes two thumbs up at Isaac, who looks bewildered.

"Stiles used magic on us this week," Lydia says calmly, filing her nails.

"Oh," Isaac goes before frowning doubtfully, "No, but. Since when can Stiles do magic?"

"My grandma's a witch," Stiles helps him.

A collective ' _ Ah _ ' goes through the group and it's probably a testament to everything they've experienced that  one short sentence  is all that's needed to explain this crazy ass week.

"So  that's  what this meeting is about. Jackson apologizing to me?"

Lydia stands abruptly and gives him an arrogant once-over. "No, we're all here to apologize."

Again, "Whut?"

"We've been kind of leaving you out of the pack lately," Allison says, grimacing at either her words or her voice which sounds like a hoarse whisper, "We didn't mean to but," She glances at Derek, who's still behind Stiles, "It just happened."

"And we're here to say we're sorry and we promise it's not going to happen again," Erica says with a sickly sweet voice and an exaggerated pout.

"I mean, now that I think about it, we totally deserved what you did this week even though it was a dick move on your part," Boyd ignores Stiles' indignant yelp, "So we promise we'll try to not make you feel the need to be a vindictive douchebag  anymore ."

"How thoughtful of you," Stiles mutters.

Lydia shrugs, "This is us, apologizing. You're getting away with your pranks. Shouldn't you be happy?" She asks snappily. Stiles glares at her.

"Maybe if it was a little more heartfelt. I don't really need an apology from Isaac or Boyd, I have nothing against  them . And even though Erica is a mean bitch 75% of the time and has the hilarious habit of prodding at my insecurities, I let it slide because she knows how to be a good friend when it really matters. Scott? Gets a free pass, because bros for life," he pauses to accept the brofist Scott is offering him, "But you two?" He points at Jackson and Lydia, "I can't even call you  friends , can I? And neither of your apologies sounded sincere. So, no. I'm not happy." He shrugs in a ' _What are you gonna do about it_? ' manner.

Allison raises her hand apprehensively, "Uh, what about me?"

Stiles rolls his eyes, "Your dimples make the world go around, you're like on your own level of class. As if you've got anything to worry about." Allison perks up, pleased and shares adorable grins with Scott.

Lydia crosses her arms and takes up an expression of determination as she comes closer to stand before Stiles, next to Jackson, who now looks like he'd gladly be anywhere else but here.

"Listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once. I... I admire you," She holds up a hand when Stiles starts to protest, "I may not show it much, but I do. You... You handle this supernatural stuff better than I do. You're somehow always in control even though you're freaking out and you always have plans convoluting in that head of yours, crazy,  _ stupid _ plans that more often than not actually work. And I envy you for that. But I'm also grateful. Because you've saved our asses like,  a _lot_ ." She swallows heavily and Stiles does the same, because they're having a  _ moment _ . He's actually having a moment with  _ Lydia _ . What is this day doing to him, did he not get out of bed and is actually still dreaming?

"That's..." He nods slowly. "That's better," he says, laughing weakly.

Lydia smiles at him and holds out her hand, "I know I've never said this before but I'm saying this _now_. I would like to be friends with you, Stiles."

Stiles gulps down his  feels  and accepts the offered handshake. "Yeah, that'd be great. If we actually put our heads together for once instead of wasting time snapping at each other, I'm sure we'd save these werewolves' asses a lot quicker," he quips, mouth quirking up at the corners.

"Exactly," she replies perkily, then steps back and pointedly elbows Jackson in the stomach. The guy barely flinches, though. Damn werewolves.

"You've..." Jackson still looks like he's forcing each letter out, almost foaming at the mouth. Stiles can't help but smile, amused. "You've saved my life a couple of times." Jackson rolls his eyes before muttering, "Thank you."

Lydia preens as if that's the nicest thing her boyfriend has ever done.

It probably is.

Stiles shrugs, "Sure, whatever."

"We cool?" Jackson asks,  glaring  at him.

He laughs, though, realizing that this is just how Jackson is. He probably does mean everything he just said but he can't bring himself to sound sincere. At least, that's what Stiles is going to believe now.

"Yeah, _ we cool _ ." And watches as Jackson visibly relaxes and turns to Lydia with  _ this look _ , wow. Stiles expects Lydia to pat the guy on the head and offer him a treat but she just sidles up to him and grabs his hand, entwining their fingers.

"Okay, now that we've had a nice chat and made up, what's next? Or is that all for tonight?"

Erica stands and surprises him with a hug and a  sniff . "Mm, you smell nice." She then steps back, arms still around Stiles' neck as if they're about to slow-dance. "But naw, I'm in the mood for some pack bonding, aren't you?"

"Movie night?" Scott perks up excitedly.

"Only if the girls don't get to pick," Isaac groans.

"Seconded," Boyd pipes up.

"I'll choose," Derek says and it's decided because he is after all, their Alpha.

But then he caves into the girls' wishes and chooses The Proposal, a rom-com with  _Sandra Bullock_ , of all people . Stiles actually laughs in his face and gets growled at. But he sees through Derek's scowls now that he knows what to look for. Stiles keeps catching Derek glancing at him, when he's doing random shit like fiddling with the dvd player or opening drinks, something he's never noticed the other do before. He personally enjoyed the discovery of how opening the bags of chips seemed to make Derek frustrated as he glared at Stiles' hands like they've personally offended him.  Apparently , Derek might just have a thing for Stiles' hands (or perhaps, fingers specifically? Oh, the possibilities.).

He doesn't really know what to do with these discoveries - that Derek's  into  him, that Derek likes certain aspects or parts of his body or whatever - it's kind of awesomely overwhelming actually. But at the same time, he feels like he's on a high. Like he can do anything and get away with it.

Which is probably why the idea of teasing the man gets a little out of hand.

-

He's in the kitchen with Derek, getting more drinks while the man waits by the microwave for the popcorn to get done. He reaches for the bottle opener and fumbles with it on purpose, watching in satisfaction as it falls off the counter and onto the floor, just in the right place so when Stiles bends over to pick it up, his ass is facing Derek.

He finds it disappointing that there's no sudden intake of breath or a groan, or anything vocal like he expected. Stiles is almost sure the other didn't even notice him doing the fairly obvious ' _look I'm bending over, look, please look, I'm desperate here_ ' move. But then he turns around and sees how Derek's eyes are still glued to Stiles' backside. His jaw is so tense it looks painful. And Stiles is pretty sure he sees Derek's eyes flash Alpha red for a second. Silent inner victory dance - commence.

"You like my new jeans?" He dares to ask, although he feels kind of breathless at the  want  he sees on the other's face. Was Derek this obvious before? Or did he just let his guard down, now that they're about to have a  _ talk _ . Either way, he feels damn attractive in his skin at the moment . And he didn't expect the power high this feeling can give you. He's almost dizzy with it.

"New jeans?" Derek repeats, eyes still stuck below Stiles' waist.

He grins to himself, shifting his weight and grin widening when Derek snaps out of it, eyes coming up to meet his.

"Yeah, I was worried they were too tight but Erica thought they were just perfect."

"Did she, now?" Derek's face is hard,  tense  and his gaze is calculating, taking in Stiles' every move, every twitch.

He takes a step closer, mouth still open in a wide smile, "Yeah, apparently she thought you'd  love  to see me in them." If Stiles got any closer, their noses would brush and it would be too close to kissing so he stops moving for now. He notices the way Derek breathes in deeply, _slowly_. He hopes he doesn't smell weird, and thinks ' _BO, don't you ruin this for me now'_.

Stiles sees Derek's hands grip the counter behind him tighter, knuckles going white from the pressure.

"Was she right?" He asks, breathing in the air Derek's exhaling and the moment feels too intimate all of a sudden, too much too fast but he's rushed in head first and doesn't know how to stop. His magic is singing under his skin, begging for Stiles to do something, to use it somehow. So he reaches out and traces that perfect jawline with his fingers, letting the connection break through him, fill him. This time he hears the sharp intake of breath he's been waiting for and sees red again.

"Stiles, we really should have that talk before we go any further with this." With that curt tone and the way Derek takes Stiles' fingers and pulls them away from his skin, he almost feels like he's been rejected.

He takes a step back, eyes narrowed. "You're giving some mixed signals here, dude."

"Just." Derek huffs, "After. When the other's are gone."

Stiles swallows heavily but nods. He doesn't like leaving things like this, awkward and unresolved but he nods and goes back to the living room along with the drinks.

He's sitting on the couch along with Scott and Allison, while others are lounging on the ground on cushions as Derek takes his usual spot in the only armchair there.

As the minutes go by, his actions keep running through his head and he's  overanalyzing  every little thing until he feels embarrassment and shame burn bright hot in the pit of his stomach.

And it's becoming easier to use magic as a way to get rid of that feeling of having fucked up again. He did it a lot in Poland and every time his grandma scolded him, warned him of how it might become addictive.

He doesn't care. Stiles glances at Derek from the corner of his eye.

He just wants Derek to go through the same thing Stiles is experiencing.

So he pushes a little. At first just a little bit of magic, enough to get the man to shift in his chair, looking suddenly uncomfortable. Then he lets some more flow out of him and it's different than ever before, it makes him want to pant, makes him want to _spread himself open_ and stick his tongue out in pleasure. It's almost as if he's feeling what he wants Derek to feel and that would mean another spell not going exactly the way he planned but he doesn't care  anymore .

Because this feels wonderful as well as maddening. A steady itch under his skin, a burning fire between his thighs, chills that crawl up his spine - but Derek looks like he's suffering in silence, the only evidence of it having an effect on him being the claws that are out and tearing into the leather armchair.

Stiles feels like everything else is muted, the  movie , his friends - all of it. All he can see, hear, smell and  feel  is Derek.

His grandma never told him about anything like this, didn't warn him.

He's just always unprepared when it comes to werewolves.

Stiles can't help himself, he pushes further, forces his magic to coil around his stomach and then directs it lower.

And Derek wolfs out, snarling and out of control as everyone else scrambles up, surprised and frightened at the sudden change.

Stiles is kind of slack-jawed at the feelings he still remembers coursing through him. He's too zoned out to even protest or struggle as  admid st  all of the others' questioning Derek grabs him by the arm and pulls him outside, forcing him into his  Camaro .

It's not until they're in front of the animal clinic that he realizes what the purpose of their little drive is.

"Fuck," he mutters.

He's about to get a lecture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :O hope ye guys dont hate me for holding out on the sterek until the very last part lol xd. but they got some things they really need to talk about e.e derek is a good boy. sometimes. in ficland.
> 
> 24.03 - was supposed to update today, have the final part half-finished but can't bring myself to write at the moment. tumblr is pissing me off and tonight was a bit of a disappointment as a whole. hopefully tomorrow. yes, tomorrow.


	5. Part Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow, this really wasn't what i planned, lol. *throws fireworks to distract and then escapes via scooter*

Derek and Deaton sit him down and start a conversation that causes a silent freakout in Stiles’ head. The further it continues, the more uncomfortable he begins to feel in his own skin. It really sucks because he thought that had stopped, he thought that part of his life was finally over once he’d discovered magic. He thought he’d never be a fuck up again. That was stupidly optimistic of him, now that he thinks about it. Considering he’s still Stiles. Just Stiles who has more up his sleeve, including more ways to fuck up royally.

“Weren’t you told that magic like this could be dangerous?"

“Dangerous?” Stiles gulps, feeling awkward and young under Deatons’ hard, disapproving stare. “I mean, yeah my grandma told me not to do it, but it was just... harmless fun, really.” He shrugs and glances at Derek. “Also, most of them knew like right away that it was me causing that weird shit and no one complained or asked me to stop, that’s basically consent, yeah?”

“It’s dangerous because you’re meddling with their minds and bodies, Stiles. If your spells went wrong by accident, caused someone to change irreversibly, would that have been harmless fun?”

“Irreversibly? Wouldn’t I have been able to just-” He jerks his head and swipes his hand over the back of his neck, feeling nauseous. “Just magic it right again?”

“Sometimes magic fails on you. I’m sure your grandmother told you that as well.”

“No,” He mutters miserably, “In fact her exact words were ‘ _That’s a lot of power you have. You can do almost anything you can think of, if you just practice and concentrate._ ’” No one says anything for a few moments and he looks up curiously, surprised to see Derek and Deaton exchanging a tense look he can’t interpret.

Deaton sighs and turns back to Stiles, “If your grandmother’s right, then that’s a lot of power you have no control over. That’s probably why so many of your spells end up a little different from what you planned. Most of the times it’s just _more_ than you asked for, right?” When Stiles nods, Deaton actually relaxes a bit, “We can work with that. You just need more focus. And you need to learn to anticipate when you’ll be needing longer skin contact or when a brush or a quick touch will do.”

Stiles bobs his head to show that he understands but then he glares at Derek, “If you knew this was dangerous, why didn’t you stop me?”

Derek at least has the decency to look sheepish, “You didn’t take it too far and Scott figured you needed this. Needed to get a little payback on the pack, which I guess I understand.”

“But, now... Now I took it too far?” Stiles asks, apprehensively. _I took it too far with_ you _?_

“Derek?” Deaton asks, clearly expecting an explanation.

“You...” Derek pauses, collecting himself, “You made me feel things _you_ wanted me to feel.” He frowns, clearly unsatisfied with that explanation but it seems to be all Deaton needs as the man closes his eyes and breathes in deeply.

“Stiles, please refrain from manipulating peoples’ emotions in the future. Especially the pack’s.”

The word _manipulating_ strikes Stiles as if an actual physical force and his breath stutters, “I didn’t-”

“Using magic to forcefully change or form emotions is probably the worst thing you could do, Stiles. It may even cause severe trauma to a person, when they don’t understand their own feelings, don’t understand why they suddenly feel different or why they felt different that one specific time. People react to things like this in various ways but when it comes to werewolves, specifically, you have to be extra careful.”

Stiles glances at Derek, dread gathering in his stomach. If this conversation gets any worse, he might just throw up.

“Um, sure, but. Why?”

“Werewolves are extremely responsive to magic, especially emotional manipulation. Or at least their human sides are. Their wolf, however, is almost resistant. This causes a conflict within them that can easily tear a person apart. Do you understand the severity of the situation now?”

“Do I ever.” Stiles whispers hoarsely. He remembers how Erica totally shut down after he just told her to not worry about it. She didn’t care about anything, really. And afterwards, when he took the spell off, she had freaked out, had felt ashamed and furious at herself. Had _blamed_ herself.

He hides his face in his hands, welcoming the darkness as he covers his eyes. And he’d made Derek feel desire. Desire for Stiles.

This is probably one of the worst moments in his life. He looks up to meet his Alpha’s eyes, some of the tension within him easing at the man’s concerned gaze.

“But... the way you reacted. You wolfed out, which wasn’t exactly what I was going for,” he ends with a mutter, glancing at Deaton uncomfortably.

Derek looks like he’s in pain. That’s always fun to see. Stiles wants to laugh and cry at the same time, a feeling that he absolutely loathes.

“I can explain that as well, I think,” Deaton says but waits for permission from Derek before continuing, “You see, it’s like this with werewolves in general but Alphas feel everything even more intensely. They’re defensive and protective of their pack but also themselves. If the wolf feels that it’s threatened, its first instinct is to lash out, to attack.”

“To kill,” Derek says, voice low. “I wanted to tear your throat out, Stiles.” He receives a disapproving look from Deaton.

Stiles shudders, realising Derek is probably blaming himself as well right now. Is feeling guilty, like he failed at being an Alpha again.

Stiles regrets ever discovering magic. It’s like Deaton can read his mind as he reaches out and places gentle hands on his shoulders.

“Don’t get me wrong, Stiles. Your magic is still a gift, a powerful weapon. A _treasure_. You just have to think more before using it. Like any other weapon, it shouldn’t be wielded without a good reason. Especially when your targets are other people.”

He nods, breathing out slowly, “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just... feel a bit bad how I let my vindictive side get the best of me. I mean, I’m supposed to be the _thinker_ in our pack.”

“Stiles, these, little pranks.” Deaton sighs, “I don’t blame you for acting as you did, you’re young and impulsive and magic is a powerful tool to suddenly be able to use like this. The only real threat was the emotional side to these spells, do you understand?”

Stiles nods readily, but lets his head hang low.

“No one got hurt. Everything’s fine. But I’m glad Derek brought you here, you needed to know this. Didn’t you tell your grandmother that you were in a pack of werewolves?”

“No, I... I didn’t yet. I wasn’t sure how she’d react, how she feels about werewolves, so.”

“Understandable. Although she would probably have told you all of this if you had.”

“Guess I just can’t help screwing things up.”

Derek makes a wounded sound, “Stiles, you didn’t screw up. Just...” His voice fades out as he gives up on finding the right words. He swings an arm around Stiles’ shoulders and steers him towards the exit, “Thanks Deaton, I’ll take him home now.”

“Remember, Stiles. You’ve achieved a lot in a month, don’t let this one mistake hold you back from practicing magic. It’s a gift.”

Stiles snorts even as he practically melts against Derek’s warm side, “Feels more like a curse at the moment.”

-

Derek opens the Camaro door and gently pushes at Stiles’ back, indicating that he should get in. Suddenly, the rest of the night flashes before Stiles’ eyes - how Derek will drive him home in silence, Stiles will spend the night alone, Deaton’s words echoing inside his head and how they absolutely won’t talk about this thing that’s apparently happening between them.

With a burst of courage, he refuses to move forward, grabs the car door and slams it shut, then turns to lean against it.

Licking his lower lip nervously, he looks up, head still lowered. Derek seems cautious and wary, which _heh_ \- that should be Stiles, really. He’s the one about to demand a confession from a werewolf.

“Stiles?”

“Look,” he blinks slowly, sighing angrily, “I already feel like shit so how about we get this talk over with. You know, the one we were about to have anyway tonight?”

“It can wait-”

“No, it fucking _can’t_. I thought you were kicking me out of the pack, Derek. But now it turns out that you what, want to fuck me?” Ignoring how Derek flinches, he pushes on, “Want to be my boyfriend? Or just figured out that I want that and you don’t know how to deal with it?”

Derek huffs out a laugh, “The whole pack has known about your crush on me for almost a year now.”

Almost a year. Basically the whole time he’s been crushing on the guy. That’s great. Fantastic.

His hurt is probably reflected on his face because Derek frowns, gritting his teeth, “I mean... You know our senses are heightened; it’s hard to hide something like that from us.”

Stiles swallows, nodding reluctantly.

“Yeah, I get it. What I don’t get is, why you’ve waited this long to show interest in me and why did Erica and Scott think that we’re _secretly dating_?” His voice rises towards the end out of incredulity.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up, “They thought what?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says demurely, “Erica thought we were waiting til I turned 18 but hey that happened like over a month ago and...”

“And then you left the country.”

Derek shrugs and looks at Stiles as if he should understand everything from that one statement.

Stiles straightens, “Are you. Are you really saying that the reason you’ve been a dick is because you were holding yourself back from getting all up in my _jailbait-yness_?” He gestures excessively at himself.

“That’s not how I’d,” Derek begins, eyes directed upwards in mocking awe, “... put it.”

He sighs shakily, gesturing at the other in frustration, “So how would you put it? Do you wanna get it on with me or not?”

“That’s just it,” The Alpha grinds out, “That’s not all I want.”

Stiles hesitates, “I’m... I’m not your mate or something, am I?” _Because even though that would be cool, it’s also a lot of pressure to put on a kid who hasn’t even finished high school yet._

“No, I’ve told you a dozen times, it doesn’t work like that. I’d... I’m the Alpha. In every way. Even in relationships.”

“So what? You’d get all possessive and overprotective? Kind of like how you are right now anyway?”

“I’m not overprotective.”

Stiles chuckles, leaning back against the Camaro because his knees are feeling a little weak here. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that, buddy.”

“You need to understand, what I’m looking for right now... with anyone, but especially with you- it’s not. I don’t want. Anything casual.” Derek takes a step closer, eyes intense.

He can’t help himself, his eyes stray down to the other’s mouth before flicking back up, realizing he’s licking his lips only when he’s already pulling his tongue back in. Derek’s gaze flicks up as well, caught staring at Stiles wetting his mouth.

“So... you want to date me?”

Derek’s expression is tense and awkward but he looks sincere, “You’re so young, Stiles. And soon you’re leaving Beacon Hills, going to college and you’ll meet new people. People who won’t be able to keep their hands off you.” Derek’s own hands come up to lean against the hood of the car, effectively trapping Stiles between them. His heart starts to hammer away at the proximity.

“If we do this, start dating. You... You’re worried that I’ll what. Cheat on you? Dump you?” Stiles asks, lips quirking up because that shit is funny. Unrealistically funny.

“Stiles, you just don’t see it.” Derek’s hands move down, coming to a stop on Stiles’ hips and the boy’s breath hitches, the other’s touch warming him to his bones despite the chilly autumn air. “You’re beautiful.” It would have sounded cheesy and ridiculous if Derek didn’t look _wrecked_ as he said it, eyes dancing over Stiles’ face. And he really feels like he can actually believe it when it’s _Derek_ saying it. “And people will notice. And you’ll get attention you’re not used to. You’ll want to experiment-”

Growing bolder with every word that comes out of the other’s mouth, Stiles grabs Derek’s hips in return, pulls the man closer and their fronts touch, Stiles pressed against the Camaro. Derek’s sharp intake of breath is encouraging, as is the way the Alpha’s gaze falls down to land on his mouth, lips parting and looking so very inviting, Stiles is tempted to think ‘ _fuck it_ ’ and just plant one on him but they still have stuff they need to say.

There’s just no reason they can’t be touching like, _everywhere_ , while they say them.

“If I have you, believe me. You’ll be the only one I’ll want to experiment anything with.” Derek’s gaze snaps up at that, eyes sharp as he probably looks for any signs of a lie. After a moment, he sighs.

“You may believe that now, but-”

“Dude, shouldn’t we like. Go out on a few dates first? Try this out before we talk about college and long-distance because hey, we have a year til that. Maybe we won’t work out, maybe we’re not as compatible as we’d like to think.”

Derek’s answer to that is a glare and, “Stop calling me dude.”

Feeling cheeky and having realized that _yeah, he can do this and not get his head bitten off_ , Stiles tilts his head and presses his mouth against the other’s in a quick kiss, leaning back before the other can react.

“Never,” he replies, trying to lick away the tingling sensation on his lips.

_I just kissed Derek Hale._

_Well, it was more like a peck._

_But still._

_Inner freak out - commence._

Derek’s harsh sigh surprises him, as does the way the man’s hands move, sliding up his sides, fingers dragging at his tight black shirt. Derek leans his head on Stiles’ shoulder, hands returning to his hips and squeezing almost painfully.

He can’t help but buck up a little at the feeling. Having another body, having _Derek_ all up and against him, body firm and hot like a furnace, hands strong and their grip steady - it’s a bit of a sensory overload for an inexperienced person like Stiles. Derek however, forces his hips down, presses them against the Camaro and Stiles lets out a whimper.

Apparently, he likes being held down. _Kink noted and saved for further investigating_.

“If we do this.” Derek says, thumbs slipping down and then up under his shirt, causing his skin to tingle in the best way ever. “We’re taking it slow.”

“Slow sounds really bad right now,” Stiles groans.

Derek steps back at that, but leaves his hands where they are, thumbs still rubbing gently and driving Stiles mad with their proximity to something else that would really love some rubbing right about now.

“But slow is how we’re doing it. _If_ we’re doing it.”

Stiles can’t believe this even though it’s written all over Derek’s face. “You really want me.”

“The reason I pushed you away is because I want you too much,” Derek admits, mouth tightening as he slides one palm up, over Stiles’ stomach that shudders beneath the touch. “Smelling your arousal was the worst. I could barely keep myself away.”

“Maybe you should have told me and then we could have been dating in secret all this time,” Stiles says breathlessly, hips shifting in interest as the skin against skin contact is causing a thrill to run through him.

“No. I needed to wait until you’re eighteen.” And the frown there, the haunted look in his eyes, that tells Stiles that there’s a story behind that, a story he’s probably not going to hear for a long time, not until Derek’s ready to share it with him.

His head bobs up and down, “Fine, fine. But now I’m eighteen and you’re _way_ over eighteen and your hand feels really good on my skin and why is slow good again?”

“Because I need you to be sure.”

“Sure?”

“That this is what you want.”

Derek’s insecurities would be really fucking adorable if it didn’t mean Stiles will probably end up with _blue balls_ before his boyfriend agrees to touch him.

“Oh God, are we _boyfriends_ now?” He wraps his arms around Derek’s neck and draws him in, relaxing completely when he feels the other’s hands slide around him and Derek’s forehead lightly touching his own.

“If that’s what you want.”

“You’re oddly compliant for an Alpha,” Stiles comments and grins wickedly when Derek growls.

“It won’t be easy. This. Us.”

“Yeah, I know. But we’re gonna take it slow, you’re gonna take me out on proper dates. And we’ll muddle through.”

Derek’s laughter is a huff of breath against Stiles’ mouth and even that turns him on.

“Proper dates?”

“Yup. Dinner and a movie and coffee and long walks on the beach (or in our case, forest, I guess) and all the cliche things I’ve never gotten to try.”

He’s disappointed when Derek draws back, arms sliding from Stiles’ body, hands leaving his skin. He wants more of that. He wants more of that very _very_ soon.

“So we’re doing this.” Derek sounds like he’s in awe. And he’s looking at Stiles as if he’s the best fucking present he’s ever gotten. His heart is about to burst out of his ribcage, he’s sure because he's just gone through a rollercoaster of emotions, all very strong and _overwhelming_ emotions.

“We’re doing this,” Stiles agrees and wonders at how it sounds like a promise.

-

During the car ride home, Stiles continues his inner freak out. But not about Derek, Derek right now is apparently his new _boyfriend_ and while that is totally freak out worthy, he’ll deal with that unbelievable outcome later.

Right now, Deaton’s words have returned and are on a loop, volume turned so high it takes a few tries from Derek before Stiles hears the man calling his name.

“Hm?” He asks, sounding distracted.

“Are you okay?”

“No, yeah, I’m just... Considering giving up magic?”

Derek looks displeased, “You heard what Deaton said.”

“Yeah, I know, I just...” He glances away, hesitating, “I think I was getting a bit addicted to it. Not to mention what I tried to do to Danny today.” He groans and burrows his face in his hands, shame causing the nausea to return. They reach the block near Stiles’ house, Derek pulling up to a stop and killing the engine before a comforting hand is splayed out on his back, generating warmth and reassurance and really everything he could ask for right now. (Excluding a few other things that Derek will most likely say no to.)

“Danny? Scott said...” Derek pauses and Stiles looks up to see a look of suspicion on the other’s face.

“Yeah, there was this whole thing where I planned to make Danny like, _really_ into me for a day but accidentally made him _tell_ me that I’m attractive every time he saw me instead.”

“Why did you want Danny to be into you? And wasn’t he the one who asked you out today?”

“Ohmy _god_ , are you serious? You look jealous right now, are you actually jealous?” Stiles laughs gleefully, “I don’t know whether to call you a dumbass or say _thank you_ because that is awesome.” At Derek’s scowl and the way the man backs away, hand leaving Stiles’ back he raises his hands in a gesture of surrender, “Fine, fine. Danny once kind of implied that I’m not attractive to him by not answering my question... _whetherI’mattractivetogayguys_ \- but it doesn’t matter anymore,” Stiles waves, chuckling, “Because he asked me out afterwards, said this new look suits me. Not to mention, _you_ found me attractive even before I grew out my hair and wore skinny jeans, so obviously I _am_ attractive.” However confident he just sounded, he can’t help but clear his throat and then ask, “Right?”

Derek sighs so deeply it sounds painful. Can one hurt themselves from sighing too hard? Stiles is googling that when he gets home.

“How can you be this oblivious when I know you own a mirror, several of them actually.”

“I’ll take that as a _‘yes, Stiles, you’re the hottest piece of ass I’ve ever seen_ ’.”

When the other grins, eyes closing in amusement, Stiles feels smug.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I meant.” Derek looks at him with a soft, almost _fond_ expression, head resting against the seat, a lot of neck bared and looking yummy and Stiles didn’t know he had a biting kink, but the urge is definitely there right now.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Stiles stresses out, looking away because he’s never been known for his patience and Derek’s neck, Derek’s everything, really, is way too tempting. “Like I said, you really don’t have to worry about me looking at anyone else, dude. I mean, I probably would have gone out with Danny tonight and _Jesus_ , stop with the hurt puppy eyes, the only reason I was gonna do that was because you and me? I never thought it would actually happen. But for almost a year now, you... you’ve always been my first choice for... anything, really.” He clears his throat, “Oh God, was that too sappy? It was, wasn’t it. I’m sorry, you bring out the romantic in me? Derek. Speak please. Did I break y-”

They share a proper kiss this time and not a peck. It starts off same, a press of soft lips against his that already has Stiles’ eyes falling shut and his heartbeat speeding up nervously. He shifts a little in his seat, straightening so he can press back and then their mouths are moving against each other, smooth and gentle. It’s nothing like he expected a kiss with Derek would be, but he’s far from being disappointed as a hand comes up to cradle the side of his head, warm and encouraging.

It lasts not nearly long enough, Derek moving back a little but still leaning over the gearshift as his eyes roam over Stiles’ face.

“So...” Stiles gulps, brain having melted from the feeling of Derek’s mouth on him. _Wow_. He’s most likely never going to grow tired of that feeling. “Was that going slow? Because usually people kiss after their first date, right? I mean, I know we’ve known each other for years but like, no dates yet and we’re supposed to be go-”

Derek is a sly bastard, Stiles thinks as now there’s a tongue in his mouth, the man having taken advantage of Stiles’ parted lips and just swooping in there. He’s still taking it slow though, teasing rather than all out licking and it takes a few moments before Stiles gets over his shock and moans because the sensation, however new and sudden is still incredible. He scoots even closer to Derek, finally touching him as he grabs him by his neck and his hair and responds to the kiss, the only way he knows how. With enthusiasm.

Derek seems to enjoy it, if his muffled groan and the way he grabs Stiles’ hips is anything to go by. Only then does he notice that he’s practically writhing, his ass pretty much in the air now, his crotch obviously and quite desperately trying to get into contact with anything that’s Derek’s.

The other forces him back down, though and _hello_ , there’s that newly discovered kink again.

Breathing is becoming an issue as they keep battling it out, lips occasionally closing for a satisfying kiss before Derek’s tongue starts to sinuously move against Stiles’ again and then roams all over, as if he’s marking his territory or something. It feels weird and at the same time awesome which is why Stiles lets out tiny whimpers.

After a moment of this, though, Derek pulls back just an inch and they breathe harshly into each other’s open mouths. Stiles’ eyes zero in on the others wet, shiny lips and he swallows heavily.

“You have a dirty mouth,” he whispers and wants to hit himself.

Derek's shoulders shake with silent laughter. “You seemed to enjoy it,” he says cockily, fingers squeezing and rubbing at Stiles’ hips in a way that makes him squirm.

“Yeah, except if you want us to go slow and at the same time not make me go insane, could you refrain from abusing my mouth like that, _wow_ ,” Stiles takes his hands away from Derek, one of them coming up to touch his mouth gingerly, “Do they look puffy? They feel swollen.”

Derek huffs out another laugh, drawing back completely to lounge in his seat, looking extremely pleased with himself, “They’re not. You look fine.”

“Good, because I’m going home, where my _dad_ is waiting, you know.”

“I know.”

Stiles notices how the other looks uncomfortable all of a sudden. And then it hits him. “My dad. Oh fuck. If we’re gonna do this, like dates and all...”

“Do you think he’ll shoot me?” Derek asks with a smirk.

“Well, good thing you have that whole magical werewolf healing thing going on, eh?”

“You don’t actually think he’s going to shoot me, do you?” Now he looks worried.

“I don’t know? I’m pretty sure my dad isn’t even prepared to do the whole ‘ _hurt him and I’ll hurt you_ ’ speech. I think he’s expecting me to get that from someone else’s - a _girl’s_ \- dad? I haven’t even told him that I might be into dudes.”

“Might be?”

“That I am. That I _am_ into dudes, shut up, missing the point here.”

Derek shrugs, sighing, “Let’s just deal with it when we reach a point where we _have_ to tell him. Or until he asks about it.”

“Do you always deal with your problems like this?”

“Pretty much. Unless people are dying.”

Stiles chuckles humorlessly, “Ha. Ha.”

“You should go, before I do something reckless like take you back home with me.”

“That’s not reckless, that sounds absolutely perfect actually.” At Derek’s impassive expression, Stiles huffs, “Oh, fine.”

But he doesn’t leave. Derek raises his eyebrows sassily but Stiles ignores him.

“Do you... Do you really think it’s okay for me to use magic still?” Even if Derek is a fantastic kisser and has the ability to destroy Stiles’ brain cells with just a press of his lips, Deaton’s words still remain in his head. Making him feel a fresh wave of nausea, every time he remembers.

A warm hand settles on his own and stills his fingers that were tapping away on his thigh.

“Stiles, you did nothing wrong. You didn’t know.”

“Does that really excuse it, though? I mean, I’m not sorry about Scott or Jackson, but what about Erica? You said she was upset...”

“Because of Boyd. And frankly? If you hadn’t made her confess to him, they would still be dancing around each other, both stinking of arousal and refusing to do anything about it. It was frustrating to be near them.”

Stiles smiles gleefully, “You mean like you and me?”

He opens his mouth to respond but chokes a little before looking away, at the steering wheel, mouth quirking up at the corners. “Yeah, I guess.”

“So the whole arousal thing, is that because of come? Or, I guess... pre-come?” Derek chokes on either air or on his own spit as he shoots Stiles a look of shock. He continues, “But that would have to be a pretty high state of arousal, though. And with women, it’s- Oh, yeah. Yeah. Oh my God. I just remembered that one time, at the start of June when I... And when you...” He can’t even put it into words. It had been a hot day, Stiles was dealing with a sudden bout of horniness, Derek was walking around, wearing nothing but jeans and the slick sweat had made all of his muscles gleam like an invitation to lick and touch and Stiles made a _big_ error in judgement as he just went and found a quiet place in the woods to _jerk off_.

“Oh God,” he squeaks out, because the mortification he’s feeling right now needs to be expressed. “Erica told me the scent of come _lingers_ , oh sweet Jesus.” He covers his face, too embarrassed to face the world.

“So now you know why I’ve been so distant this summer,” Derek states calmly, as if it’s no big deal.

“Excuse me?” Stiles cries out, hands lowering. “The scent of my _come_ made you back off?”

Derek groans, “How can you be this oblivious? I could barely keep myself from jumping you that day, Stiles. Do you get it now?”

“...Oh.” He hums thoughtfully, “So. The scent of come. Is that a werewolf thing? Or a _you_ thing?”

And for once, Derek is the one who looks awkward, “It’s... both?”

“Okay, um, so if I were to, let’s say. Get off...” He says nonchalantly, hand surreptitiously making its way up his thigh, “...right now? That would-” His hand’s movement is stopped by a firm grip.

“That. Would be pushing it.”

And yeah, okay, the red eyes are now going into Stiles’ collection of kinks and things to _fap_ to.

“I’m serious, Stiles. We’re taking this slow.”

“Yup, I really got it. I promise.” He waits for Derek to nod and remove his hand before he turns and hikes up a leg, leaning on his side. “So, about magic.”

“Stiles,” Derek groans.

“No, but, listen. Like, all of the spells I did... They were kind of complicated and I was mostly improvising, so that would also be why they sometimes went a bit weird, not to mention my grandma did warn me and told me to stop making up spells so much-”

“Do you ever listen to grown ups?”

“-Hey, _I_ am a grown up now and no, rarely. But what I’m getting at here is, maybe I should start small again? And try to keep things simple. And definitely practice on objects instead of people. Maybe Deaton could help me train this, I’m sure he has some ideas on how to learn control. My grandma refused to let me teach her how the internet works and she also refuses to teach me by phone, so her help is out-”

“Why is this so important to you?”

Stiles’ mouth snaps shut and he frowns, “What, you mean magic?”

“No, I. Of course magic is important to you, it’s part of who you are now. No, I meant... practicing, you’re almost treating it like a weapon or a skill you need to train. And you’re in a hurry too. I’m just trying to understand.”

“I just. I want to be good at something finally,” Stiles mumbles and looks away when he sees the other’s face start to soften (probably in pity). “I want to be useful. Allison can fight like a badass, Lydia is smart, half-immortal almost and apparently also learning how to use a friggin bow. Everyone else is a werewolf, aka automatically categorized as badasses and then there’s me.” He gestures at himself weakly, “A little _spark_. Well, now I’m finally more than that.”

“Stiles,” Derek marvels. There’s a hand cradling his jin and forcing him to face the Alpha. He breathes out easily when he sees the worry but also the amused little smile. “You were always useful. And you’ll still be useful. And you’re part of the pack, no matter what. Got it?” He demands, hand lowering to Stiles’ neck, shaking him gently.

“Yeah, I got it,” Stiles replies, trying to hide how pleased he is. He can’t help but grin when Derek kisses him again and as he feels Derek smile as well, their mouths now just pressed together, he laughs, “This is not how people kiss.” He licks his lips slowly when Derek leans back. “And it’s really unfair, considering you’re about to throw me out of your car.”

Derek laughs as well, biting into his lower lip (fucking uncool, man), “Just go.”

He opens the door and gets one leg out before an idea strikes. Going with the impulse as usual, he leans back and grabs the other’s hand that’s already reaching for the keys in the ignition.

“Hey, so about magic?”

Derek rolls his eyes, “I told you-”

“That it’s okay and I didn’t do anything bad and blah- _blah_ , but are you sure it’s okay that I use magic, still?” He asks intensely, holding the other’s hand in a firm grip. He wets his mouth, nervously waiting for a reply.

“Yes, of course,” Derek replies, glancing back-and-forth between his hand and Stiles’ lips.

“So, if I did this?” He concentrates and feels a familiar tingling.

Derek’s sharp intake of breath and a flash of red eyes is all Stiles needs as he clambers out of the car, laughing when Derek tries to take a swipe at him.

“You’re such a little shit!” Derek shouts but he’s laughing so he knows the man isn’t mad at him. Also, Stiles now knows that he doesn’t even have to be touching Derek’s dick to _be touching Derek’s dick_. That is awesome. That’s something he’s definitely gonna use on their dates, hopefully to make the other see that this _taking it slow deal_ is really unnecessary and frustrating.

“Just imagine how awesome having sex with me will be now that I can use magic,” Stiles beams, ducking down as he leans on the door.

“I could imagine that even before the magic, Stiles.”

_Retreat, retreat-_

“Oh God, you’re cruel.”

“Just stating a fact.” Derek shows off his teeth, smiling widely.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t, now go home. I’ll see you tomorrow after school.”

“Oh? Are we having another pack get-together?”

“Nope, we’re having a date.”

He smiles, something warm and bubbly growing inside him and making him want to giggle because, “Holy shit, are you picking me up from school? Can I kiss you in front of like, everybody? Because, dude. I need to show you off.”

Derek snorts, starting up the car. “We’ll see. Now _go. home._ ” Stiles has heard those words way too many times this past year but this is the first time where they don’t hurt him at all.

He makes a face at his boyfriend ( _Jesus Christ, never getting over that_ ) and finally steps away from the car, slamming the door shut.

As he’s walking home, he checks his phone and sees a message from Scott.

_dude, u okay?_

He quickly answers.

_yup, got lectured tho. but also got a bf!_

He receives a reply even before he reaches his house, so he stands and devotes himself to the conversation.

_whut, so u and derek finally?_

_yeah and also dont think im not annoyed that my bff knew about our alpha’s feelings and didnt. share._

_i srsly thoghthu were datin!!!_

_i believe u man, still not cool_

_why u got lectured tho_

_deaton knows more about magic than i thought, and i kinda didnt think about the consequences_

_consequences?_

_of emotional manipulation_

_woah- wait, what?_

_nvm, will talk more about this tomorrow. at school tho. cause i got a date afterwards :DD_

_me and allison will be free tomorro nite for u to spazz at_

_i love u guys, srsly tearing up here_

_we luv u too._

He figures he can pocket his phone now but then a text from Erica arrives.

_got a text from derek, you really don’t have to worry about me. i ain’t even mad at you._

_sure?_

_yeah, it was pretty funny actually. and got some things off my chest ;))_

_like how much u love allison’s dimples?_

_omg shuddup, i take everything back now_

_naw, u love me_

_as if_

Once he’s finally home and is preparing a snack for him and his dad, Erica messages him again, _< 33_

He replies, _knew it, im irresistable. but yeah, right back atcha._

For a moment he stares at his phone, immensely relieved that everything's still kind of normal. It’s been a weird week, for sure. And it’s about to get even weirder, considering he has a date with _Derek_ coming up. Stiles feels like he wants to crawl out of his skin, he feels so anxious.

As he hands over his dad’s plate, he asks, “So. How do you get someone to put out on the first date?”

He has to pat the man on the back as he chokes on his first bite of food and then bring him a glass of water. Stiles tries to explain that it was a joke and he’s really not trying to get into some girl’s pants.

He should probably do as Derek said. Wait until they have to tell his dad or until the man starts asking questions.

Til’ then, he’ll enjoy dating his older, dangerous boyfriend who his father most likely won’t approve of and will want to arrest in the suspicion of statutory rape as soon as he finds out.

_Forbidden_ and _secrecy_ is now added into his ever-growing list of ‘ _Things that turn Stiles on_ ’.

He also adds _the chance to get caught_ , because the idea of Derek sneaking up into his room to have his wicked way with him while his dad is asleep? Definitely sends a familiar shudder down his spine.

As his dad’s eyes are glued to the TV screen, he pulls out his phone and texts Derek.

_so, am working on a list of things we should try. ykno, kinks and whatnot. any requests? ;D_

Two minutes later, he gets a reply.

_knotting_

He chokes. Kind of loudly because his dad turns to ask if he’s okay.

“Yeah, no, just. Scott texted something really inappropriate. Let me just-” He points at the doorway and leaves the living room, actually heading upstairs so he can freak out in peace.

_are you srs? i thought u said it wasnt a thing. ykno when i asked about mates and wolfy stuff._

_i’m kidding, stiles._

He gawks in outrage. And decides to retaliate.

_really? disappointed, dude._

_you want me to stretch you out? fill you up? don’t need a knot for that._

Stiles takes a moment to sprawl out on his stomach and press his face into his pillow because Derek is being such a cruel bastard right now. He finally has enough brain power to reply.

_are we sexting? are we gonna do this? what are u wearing_

_no, im not gonna reply anymore_

_no cmon, it was just getting interesting. im in my sleeping get-up. i sleep naked ;D_

_im turning off my phone. and u sleep in ur boxers and a tshirt._

_ohmygod, how the fuck do you know that?_   
_derek?_   
_are u the edward to my bella?_   
_fine, ill jack off now_

Stiles snickers to himself and gets up to look for some porn. After all of that teasing, he feels like drawing out his jerkoff session, making the pleasure build up so it’ll be more satisfying.

And if he occasionally sends texts and perhaps even a picture or two to Derek while he’s doing it, well... Who can blame him really?

Slow has never been the Stilinski way.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you guys so much for reading and for all the kudos and comments. *throws confetti*


End file.
